The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove
by Christopher Moore
Harper Paperbacks, 320 pages
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When I’m reading a Christopher Moore novel, my tv stands, my computer sits unused, and I end up with a stomach ache from too much laughter. I “heart” Moore’s books, and my most recent read of his, The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove, is no exception.

I could explain the plot, but the thing about Moore is that his plots are so preposterous, and yet work out so neatly, that even a concise synopsis gives too much away. Let’s just leave it at this: this is a horror comedy that includes small-town life, drug busts, aging action heriones, raunchy sex, the blues, and a sea monster, and, like my other recent read, Commander Pants’ Whom God Would Destroy pokes a lot of provocative fun at the mental health industry, specifically where anti-depressants are concerned.

It’s an enjoyable read if you like to laugh, but it also makes you think, and really, isn’t that what good comedy should do?