Isaac Asimov wrote more book, articles, encyclopedia entries than I thought one human being would be able to do.  To say he was prolific I think is an understatement.  He had some good, some bad, some forgettable, and some locked in my brain forever.

This one I read years ago at the urging of my father.  It turned out the Asimov at one point in his career realized he had published something in almost every genre imaginable except mysteries and romance stories.  So he wrote one of each.

This is the mystery novel.  The basic story is that there is a murder at a meeting of the American Booksellers Association.

Trying to solve a mystery in the middle of a bunch of fiction writers would be a challenge for the investigators.  It is a cute idea.  Asimov even went so far as to make himself a character.  So what have is a reasonable idea and some nice plot twists.

That is about the only good thing I can say about this book.  It is not horrid.  I’m not mad that I spent time reading it.  But if it weren’t a mystery written by Asimov (which is an outlier in his career) I would not remember it.

If you come across a copy it is a quick read, if you are on an airplane it won’t bother you to read it.  But you won’t run off and tell your friends that it was so great they just need a copy.

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