Picador dominates the NYTBR!

We can’t help but #humblebrag about all the amazing Picador books reviewed in yesterday’s (October 26) New York Times Book Review:

THE KILLS by Richard House
The patience required to get through [THE KILLS’ 1,000 pages] is made easy by House’s insistent and electric prose style, which imbues long passages about corporate machinations with bristling suspense. Taken together, the four books of THE KILLS depict a searing landscape in which identities are lost and then stolen, and morally bankrupt institutions are aided in their corruption by the abject refusal of certain individuals to face the truth. This is not an international thriller so much as a fiercely literate attempt to subvert the thriller genre itself.” — Christopher Rice

THE BOY WHO DREW MONSTERS by Keith Donohue (an October 2014 LibraryReads pick!)
Ingenious… Donohue unspools his simple story patiently, delivering jolts when necessary, but mostly concentrating on the stress generated in a family with an unhappy child. It’s a modest novel, elegantly worked, with a nice chilly twist at the end.” — Terrence Rafferty

THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK by Fred Venturini
“What starts out as a tender and hilarious coming-of-age novel turns into something quite different when Dale, after a horrific accident, discovers his body’s ability to regenerate itself…. Despite the supernatural bent, the book’s best moments are its human ones… The writing is joyous, but the dark side of life—fathers who beat their sons, mothers who die of cancer—gives depth to the comedy. Dale’s voice is refreshing, his strange power of regeneration and the aftermath of fame and fortune expertly rendered. THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK is an exciting, thoroughly enjoyable ride, hitting the perfect spot of strange and bittersweet.
— Paula Bomer

ON THE EDGE by Edward St. Aubyn
“Like Evelyn Waugh’s THE LOVED ONE and William Boyd’s STARS AND BARS, ON THE EDGE indulges in some very British lampooning of American culture and its excesses…. And yet to regard ON THE EDGE as purely satirical in its intentions, or to regard America as its sole target, is to miss the novel’s complexity and subtlety, as well as the elegance with which it modulates between Waughian parody and Forsterian pathos. With its many couplings, uncouplings and recouplings, ON THE EDGE (the title itself a sly joke) is, for all its keen awareness of suffering, a comedy with a happy ending, if not a ‘happy ending.’” — David Leavitt

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