Review of The Bridge (aka The Money Song) by Christopher K. Miller

An entry last month titled “Dear Readers: A Remorseless Apology” didn’t mention the author or the title of the novel I was reading at the time because privacy and trust are precious things. Then along came this comment:

“Hi Hawke,

I just read your blog for the first time in a while. I can't remember when I sent you The Bridge, but I'm wondering if this isn't around the time. If this is an anonymous review of it, then I am most grateful. Of course you have my permission to use names, etc.

If you are referring to it, I'd be interested to know the parallels to your own life you refer to.

Thanks”

Since there is only one person who knew I was reading The Bridge - the author himself - I’ll take this as permission to chat about it (and I say chat because I don’t want to give the story away).

Before I start, and for those who don’t know me, a little background is in order. There is only one thing I’m always serious about, and that is (you guessed it) writing. That doesn’t mean I’m a miserable person. What I am is an extremely picky reader - picky in that if a work doesn’t grab me by the first page or so, it’s gone. I have a life, you know. Granted it’s not much...but what I do have is important to me and I don’t care to waste it on a work best suited to line the bottom of a birdcage. Sound mean? Perhaps. But at least I’m mean in the “equal opportunity” way - meaning that I’ll toss John Saul’s work as quickly as my own if it doesn’t grab me.

The Bridge (aka The Money Song) by Christopher K. Miller, grabbed me.

Actually, "Bridge" did more than grab me. I felt married to it. Some novels are like that. They grab you. They engross you. They are the last thing you think about at night and the first thing you reach for in the morning. Like "Bridge." But I should give a little of the beginning.

After several back-and-forth emails (and learning that Chris had written a novel), I dropped a hint. Okay, dropping a hint is lightweight and not exactly the truth. What I really did was closer to outright begging. But you see, I’d read some of Chris’ wonderful short stories and was more than curious about his novel. So I begged. And nice guy that he is, he sent it...probably so I’d leave him alone for a while. At any rate, it came in the mail - a signed copy no less - and I started reading. And yes, it passed my disgustingly tough first page test. And the second page. And before I knew it, I was at the end and as content as a fat lady after an all-you-can-eat buffet. Or an opera aficionado after meeting Pavarotti. Or a chocoholic after Halloween. You get the idea.

This is starting to sound like an Academy Awards nomination, but I really don’t care.

The finely crafted “Bridge” has yet to be published, though I sincerely doubt it will remain that way for long. Its characters are vivid and fully realized, the story emotional and genuine, the writing masterful. To read it was a great pleasure for me. I know it will be for you, as well. In other words, Dear Readers, when you run across The Bridge (aka The Money Song) on the shelf of your favourite bookstore, and I have no doubt that you will, do yourself a favour and buy it. It really is that good.

Bravo, Chris. And thank you.