Oh My Deer My Deer itibaren थाव्लय, मध्य प्रदेश, भारत itibaren थाव्लय, मध्य प्रदेश, भारत

there are certainly moments of graham moore's debut novel that are clunky or forced in feeling, but what makes it truly impressive is that, ultimately, you're willing to forgive it to see where the story goes. normally, that's the sort of thing that hangs me up and drives me nuts. not really the case here. moore splits his narrative between 1900, with arthur conan doyle and bram stoker starting their own little detective agency and trying to solve the murder of two girls and a 2010 sherlockian convention that finds a man who claims to have located doyle's secret missing diary murdered. moore uses a lot of history in his novel but not slavishly (names and some details have been, of course, altered to protect the innocent). for me, this book felt like it was written by someone who truly loves classic mysteries (and if you've read the ones mentioned, you'll have a distinct upperhand when it comes to solving the actual mysteries). each chapter is punctuated by some truism, usually by either doyle or stoker, and interspersed in the text are little gems that actually get you to reflect on what is that mystery lovers so desperately want in their stories. it's intelligent without being completely pedantic. my favorite section, weirdly, is the little thank you at the end where moore basically lists a bunch of other books i should read. it seemed genuine, and that resonated. the book is really more a love song than a mystery - although there are problems to solve here - and moore gets what it is to love a fictional character and its maker.

THE DANGER OF SUBJECTIVISM One of my college application personal statements was about how I misread the ending to this book, took the message to heart, reread the book later and realized my folly, then took the new message to heart. In the end, my girlfriend hates Hemingway.