I finished Al Franken’s Giant of the Senate a week or so ago. It was quite an entertaining read, but felt kinda… I dunno, sorta toothless at the end. He keeps himself on a very short leash, except when it comes to Ted Cruz and Trump. That might keep him in good standing in the institution so he can continue to do good work on behalf of his Minnesotan electorate, but jeez… if it weren’t for the book itself (and his promotional tour of the talk shows), one could be forgiven for forgetting he even exists on the political stage.
Now I’m reading City of Devils by Justin Robinson. Postwar noir in L.A. except the nation has been conquered by Universal-type monsters (werewolves, mummies, ghosts, Frankensteinesque “meat golems,” killer robots, even Joe Dante’s Gremlins) who then assimilate into our culture. All cops are werewolves, City Hall is staffed by mummies and zombies, and regular humans are definitely 2nd class citizens. By law, humans are protected from being eaten or “turned” during daylight hours, but after sunset… the monsters can get ya, with no recourse. Our hero is L.A.'s only human private eye, hired to find a missing city councilman (mummy) by the guy’s wife, a shapeshifting actress who spends most days at a movie studio acting in a flick called Love is a Many-Splendored Thing From Another World, directed by a robot named Gortran. The studio head (and mayor of Hollywood) is a tentacled Crawling Eye named Oculon.
By now you already know if you’re gonna like it or hate it.