It’s after midnight. It’s still incredibly hot and humid, even though I’m on the Connecticut shoreline, and the sun has been down for hours. I’ve just finished loading two tons of DJ equipment into the truck and am preparing for an hour drive back home after spending the last seven hours entertaining at a wedding. Getting this small, older crowd to dance was like pulling teeth. I still can’t shake a cold that has plagued me for almost two weeks. I’m tired and haven’t seen my wife and daughter for over twelve hours.
Then I receive a message through Twitter that a new review of Something Missing has appeared in The Milwaukee-Wisconsin Journal Sentinel, a paper that my DJ partner tells me he reads almost daily, being a Packer fan.
It’s a great review. Possibly my favorite so far. Most definitely my favorite paragraph of praise so far:
“Something Missing” is the kind of book that will make you miss your next bus, class or bedtime. Compulsive behavior can make for great comedy, and Dicks makes the most of it. I don’t know if the author has watched any Harold Lloyd movies, but he certainly brings the dangling-man-in-peril feel to some of Martin’s second-story adventures. Yet he never reduces Martin to a cartoon of an obsessive-compulsive man. Martin is deeply plausible, and somehow noble within the straitjacket of his patterns and elaborate rationalizations.
Best of all, it came at just the right time. Just when I needed a pick-me-up.
A well-timed tweet. Is there anything better?
