Like a rainbow compared to the windswept desert of Bakkers writing, Lynchs cheerfully foul-mouthed sequence of fantasy novels feature thief and conman Locke Lamora, the lengths hell go to in order to steal the unstealable and trick the untrickable, and the powerful enemies he makes along the way. Lynch is currently three volumes into his seven-volume sequence: the first, The Lies Of Locke Lamora, is set in Camorr, a rough equivalent of late medieval/ early Renaissance Venice. Locke and his friends are a gang of high level grifters and reprobates nicknamed the Gentleman B*stards, who are also priests of the Crooked Warden, god of thieves and neer-do-wells. A mysterious figure, the Gray King, is cutting a murderous swathe through Camorrs criminal underworld, targeting the Capa, the overboss. Locke and the Gentleman B*stards are about to be used as pawns in the Gray Kings bloody games but Locke Lamora wont be used by anyone. A brilliantly funny, darkly inventive, madcap caper of a novel, The Lies Of Locke Lamora plays out like a fantasy cross between The Usual Suspects and Oceans Eleven, if it was written and directed by Shane Black. The sequel, Red Seas Under Red Skies, is exactly the same only with casinos and pirates, and The Republic Of Thieves sees Lamoras swashbuckling machinations taken to the political arena as he seeks to rig an election and con an entire city. Lynch writes like hes having the most fun of anyone anywhere, and if anything can bring a welcome antidote to the perilous, ultraviolent bleakness of Game Of Thrones, Breaking Bad and Sons Of Anarchy, its the spirited, grimly crooked adventures of Locke Lamora (who clearly needs to be played by James McAvoy, or a clone of him that doesnt mind doing telly).
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
