Donald E. Westlake

Sometimes books we read become like old friends. Those books are the ones we carry around with us wherever we move and pull off the shelf when we spot then and realize we haven't read them for a while. They are like the literary equivalent of comfort food.

"The Hot Rock" by Donald E. Westlake is one of those books to me. I don't remember where I got it. When I was young my mom and I read voraciously and would exchange paper grocery sacks full of paperbacks with friends and relatives as we read through the piles of books. I think that's where we got "The Hot Rock." Wherever it came from, it ended up on a shelf in my room and followed me all over until a few years ago. I read it many times, enjoying it each time.

(The movie, however, was very disappointing. It's often true that "the movie is never as good as the book" and that saying is true in this case. Read the book, you'll enjoy it much more.)

Donald E. Westlake passed away today. I'll have to get a replacement for my lost copy of "The Hot Rock" and read it in his memory.