In his first novel, Hooked, Matt Richtel, a technology reporter for The New York Times, has written a book that truly tripped me out. I kidded him about it in the interview that follows. I told him, ”I think your novel should come with a warning label: ‘Do not read if a hypochondriac who uses the Internet. I was starting to feel clammy halfway through the book. Do you agree such a warning is needed?’”
His reply showed he is also modest and witty: “Seems reasonable. Everything else has a warning label these days. How about: 'Do not read Hooked if you are prone to bouts of paranoia, love sickness, or Fear Of Staying Up Past Your Bedtime To Read One More Chapter. If you start to experience any of these symptoms, promptly put down Hooked and pick up one of my newspaper articles about Silicon Valley.' You'll be asleep before you know it.”
But I read some of his articles on technology and they are far from sleep-inducing. The same can’t be said for some of the columnists of The New York Times (I’m looking at you, George Will and David Broder). In fact, Richtel also wrote one of my favorite stories ever to appear in The New York Times, partially just because I was shocked that a newspaper still hesitant to print the exact cuss words uttered by President Bush and Vice President Cheney would have a story on the adult porn awards. More on that later.
Hooked is a thriller in every sense of the word – it was hard to put down. The book keeps the reader, well, hooked from the moment it begins at a café where the protagonist, a medical journalist in the Bay Area, is handed a note and told to leave the place immediately. He does so and narrowly misses being hurt as the café explodes. The note is written in the handwriting of his true love, which would be more romantic if she wasn’t dead. Confused? Think how confused the character is and things get more surreal from there on in.
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