I’ve read a handful of mystery novels and my general consensus is that they’re predictable (not in the sense that you know who the killer is, but in the sense that your main character will probably have a crappy personal life) but that they are fun to read. So while I didn’t fall in love with the genre, I could enjoy a mystery novel from time to time. Janet Evanovich is one of those names you will see frequently whether it be in a book store or a library so I thought it only natural to read one of her books. Ten Big Ones is the one that came into my possession and to this day, roughly a year or two since I first tried to read it, I haven’t found a way to soldier through the ending.

            The premise is flimsy. A collection agency employs Stephanie Plum to find those who refuse to pay their court fines and get them to cough up the dough. But through her travels, Ms. Plum ends up being the sole witness in a potentially gang-related crime. We are then left wondering when the man in the red devil mask will re-emerge to threaten her life. Had the book focused on this premise alone it might have found some level of enjoyment, but from what I read, the story stumbles around drunkenly trying to find something of mild interest in Stephanie Plum’s life. Perhaps she’s interesting because of her family, which consists of a loud mouth sister, a grandma who says inappropriate things, or a neighbor who cross dresses and drives a bus? It sounds funny, but in practice it becomes a nauseating chain of clichés that leaves the reader feeling dumber for having read it.

            If not the family, then maybe Stephanie’s life is interesting because of the two love interests she’s wrestling with? There is the upstanding “nice guy” that all women feel they should be with and the stereotypical “bad boy” that they can’t resist. The sheer fact that these two gorgeous young men would be interested in a middle aged office jockey is a clear representation that this book was written to tantalize the minds of lonely middle aged women rather than provide any sort of deep or lasting impression. Similarly, Stephanie’s weakness around Ranger (the bad boy) leaves us moral readers disliking her character for not thinking twice about the nice guy she was supposedly in a relationship with. Obviously this sets up her character, but I don’t think Janet Evanovich intended for us to hate Stephanie Plum on moral principals.

            I referred to this series as the female equivalent of James Bond or Dirk Pitt. Those novels are primarily geared towards men and are often reduced to random naked women, constant explosions and villains who explain their whole plot before putting the hero in an easily escapable situation. The women’s equivalent seems to be filled with gorgeous men, all of which are eager to whisk her away romantically at a moments notice, acquaintances that always say something embarrassing and lots of food. I’m not much of a fan of Dirk Pitt, and neither am I a fan of Stephanie Plum. The two of them should get together and argue through their differences. That might have produced a more interesting book than Ten Big Ones.

            Ultimately I don’t want to say that I hated this book because you should read what you want to read, not what people tell you to read. However these reviews are also my opinion and my opinion is that I hated this book. I hated it with every fiber of my body. If my review scale had been designed with a zero, I would be giving this book a zero. I apologize to fans of Evanovich for saying this, but they would likely say the same thing about a lot of the books I’ve loved, so I guess we’ll both just have to live with it.