Dear Mr Katz;

I think, Mr Katz, that you're the kind of writer who's quite likely to read customer reviews of his books, so I hope you'll take some of this to heart.

I will start by congratulating you for displaying some real gifts for plotting and characterization. Those two strengths kept me reading your book. Your sensitive sleuth Kit Deleeuw is a relatively convincing protagonist, and his network of assistants and family members come alive quite well. You've also done a nice job setting up a tense story here; there's nothing like a mix of murder and sex for fail-safe combustibility. For these accomplishments, The Last Housewife earns a least one star above the minimum.

But seriously: don't you think your stories and characters would work a lot better if they weren't suffocated -- and I mean slathered, soaked and submerged -- in your relentless and banal politicizing? You see, even dim readers like me can pick up your political leanings from a few well-placed incidents, or from remarks made by a sympathetic character, or simply from the way in which only Rochambeau's 'nontraditional' families are allowed to rise above the therapy-fodder comprising all the old-fashioned mom-and-pop outfits. You don't need to encumber your story with paragraph after paragraph, indeed often page after page, of your first-person narrator's internal monologues regarding the state of sex roles and childrearing in contemporary American suburbia. Have you heard of showing rather than telling? As it happens, I think the moral and ethical world you create is ultimately hollow, and a lame and timid political correctness skews your judgement regarding the true sources of the crises facing American families, but that's a topic we can debate in other venues. You're entitled to your give voice to your politics -- just don't let them ruin your storytelling.

Next, I do wish you'd give us, your humble and sometimes moderately literate readers, a chance to remember things on our own. Yes, we have these marvelous tools called 'memories' at our disposal, every day of the week! You needn't remind us, slavishly, like a workman stacking up the same pile of cinder blocks, over and over and over, what has happened so far. We can do much of this 'heavy lifting' on our own -- and some of us even enjoy it!

Finally, and I do admit this is just a bit presumptuous of me, I would ask that you get those niggling little details right, please? Let me give you one example. Now, I know you hate guns! Kit told me, several times, how he gets the heebie-jeebies just *thinking* about that nasty 'ol piece he keeps locked up in his office safe. Nevertheless, could I just let you in on a little secret: a rifle isn't the same as a shotgun! A rifle shoots bullets -- just one at a time! A shotgun shoots a whole mess of little pellets. You seem to think they're the same: Kit, and your supposedly brilliant policewoman, both refer to the murder weapon as a rifle and as a shotgun in the same paragraphs. Perhaps Kit could be expected to be so ignorant, but do you think you could find me a policewoman (or man) anywhere who doesn't know the difference?

Well, Mr Katz, I could say much more, but then I'd be worshipping the muse of longwindedness right by your side.

Ever yours,

A Concerned Reader

Kit Deleeuw is a husband, father, and detective, aptly described by his occasional nemesis as "a Volvo type of guy." In marked contrast to the better known Philip Marlowe, a loner who once inventoried his possessions as "a coat, a hat, and a gun," Kit confronts suburban depravity wielding a family, a mortgage, and a payroll. He votes Democrat, subscribes to "Private Investigator" magazine, and can talk intelligently about feminism. Most of his clients are tougher than he is. If Kit keeps an office bottle, you can be sure it's stocked with ibuprofen or antacid, rather than whiskey.

In other words, Kit is a gumshoe up to his dishpan hands in a homicide case, but seems more like the mild-mannered captain of a neighborhood watch program. By his own admission, he loves Raymond Chandler talk, and seldom uses it. He can't sell his wife on his client's innocence or remember the difference between a rifle and a shotgun. Fortunately, "The Last Housewife," an entertaining yarn and a meditation on the state of the American family, also offers clues to the mystery of how such a sensitive man avoids milquetoast passivity to become the scourge of criminals in Rochambeau, New Jersey. Kit is loyal and smart, with a keen sense of his own limitations and a knack for making friends in the right places. Reading about him and the other characters in in this smoothly plotted story won't pull any muscles in your head, but does bestow the honest pleasure of cheering for good people while they wrestle with human and systemic failure.

I truly enjoyed this good natured detective who takes care of the house, kids, wife, and dog and still finds time to save a woman from certain conviction for a crime she did not commit. All of the characters introduced in the book are charming and I took to them immediately. The local dog walkers, the former attorney turned hamburger shop owner, the police chief and jaded police detective, all make great foils and helpers to the book's hero. My only complaint was that I did not get to know Kit Deleeuw's wife very well. She's of course very busy earning the real money in the family, but I would like to see more interaction with her in future books. I definitely recommend this book to anyone who enjoys books like "The Cat Who...." series since I feel some of the same wonderful energy here. ENJOY

Mrs. Frizzle's class gets some skeleton costumes, and they are all missing something. They go to the costume designer to get some spares, but they are frightened by The Ghost Of John! Will they get over the fright?