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Schaller trades between resolutely conveying fact and wistfully recalling narrative so often as to cause Stones of Silence to slip into a strange, but sensational, meditative experience.

In seven pages, George B. Schaller delivers both an impassioned plea to preserve the natural world and a promise of high adventure that justifies preservation. It’s this balance of tones more than his actual skill as a writer that piques my interest and begs the question, “Will the next two hundred and seventy pages deliver what the first seven have addressed?”.

Fast Charlie Swift shoves a kid named Parker in a trash can, but it’s Gischler’s quick, low, and dirty prose specked with the occasional cigarette-thin slice of urban poetry is a far more fitting homage to Richard Stark’s rampaging thief from another time.

Victor Gischler writes like he’s read every crime novel on planet Earth, and maybe even some from outer space. Standard issue characters walk his mass-market world, but Gischler’s dark wit punches out a bit more depth to their shadows. He’s someone I wanna have a beer with, and you can tell which characters he feels that way toward, too.