While at the airport I picked up a paperback called 'The Traveller' by John Twelve Hawks (I guess Hawks sounds tougher than drummers drumming), and while I'm about to slate it, I'll still admit I'm quite enjoying reading it!

I'm not going to slate it for the way it's written, as it's perfect for what I bought it for (to kill hours of mind-numbing waiting around in airports, although frankly I'd rather be sitting by a pool with a large G&T reading it, which also nicely describes this kind of book). What really annoyed me was that it was so desperately trying to be marketable. Here's a quick list of suck-ups to Hollywood in the book:

* Set in LA, with some 'exotic' scenes in Paris (of course)
* Lots of fights with samurai swords
* Car chases with explosions
* Beautiful (but deadly) heroine (Alias anyone?)
* Secret societies (surely not like Da Vinci code)

It was the Los Angeles setting that really did it for me - I reckon I know every freeway through the city now, and I've never even been there! Mr Twelve Toes is clearly begging for the film of the book, I'm surprised he hasn't described the heroine as Jolie-esque. As if it isn't tiresome enough that every American blockbuster is set in LA, now it seems that books are going to be as well...