Jonathan Kellerman's Evidence...and it was really bad.
Let me enhance that statement...I love Kellerman books. I have read them all. In the first few reads, I picked up psych lingo that has stuck with me ("munchausen by proxy"), became enamored with Dr. Delaware, and got a character-crush on good ol' Milo. Most of Kellerman's books have interesting plots and even more arresting narrative/dialogue.
This one did not. This one fell far short of the mark. I felt like he had to meet a deadline with this book. Maybe he has exhausted the Delaware/Sturgis relationship and just can't admit it. There is a reason Michael Connelly brok off from Harry Bosch for a few books: you can't pump water from a dry well.
Or, could it be me?
Have I been reading to much literature and am more critical of regular fiction? Possibly.
I suppose I should try another old favorite's new release and see if it sticks better. Mark Mills, Jeffrey Eugenides, and Louise Penny may have ruined me for all airport fiction.
The horror! But what does it mean for my writing? Time will tell.
Has this happened to you?