So last Saturday I spoke at UC Berkeley, my alma mater. The city itself is as delightful as ever – a mix of fall leaves, bright sun and tramp feces. And with that combination of serene elements, I can’t think of a better starting point for my Gregalogue.

See, when I arrived at Berkeley as a freshman some 25 years ago, the city not only helped to transform my political self, but reinforced a cynicism already brewing inside me concerning the meaning of true rebellion. I was a punk in high school, for sure, and embraced generic left wing dogma – for it impressed teachers and even won extra credit in various classes. As a teenager, it also gave me what I craved: attention, some relevance, and a chance to get lucky with hippie chicks. That last desire was never achieved – because I had attended an all boy high school. But no matter, I practiced on the drama students. (more…)

The primary attraction to any Andrew Klavan novel is a well-constructed, breathlessly paced story that grabs hold within a paragraph and never lets you go. In this respect, Klavan’s a narcotics dealer, a deliverer of addictive, satisfying escapism created to transport you from reality — which in a way makes his latest thriller, “The Last Thing I Remember” a gateway drug for young adults.

Opening sentence: “Suddenly I woke up strapped to a chair.”

Strapped to that chair is Charlie West, a typically bright and motivated high school student who has no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembers is a good though unexceptional school day but nothing that connects to the where, how or why of his present and immediate circumstance. Not only has he been tortured, but voices in the hall have just decided to kill him … slowly.

From here Charlie will have to escape, out run and out-wit his deadly, resourceful captors and unravel what happened in-between scoring a first date with his dream girl and waking up in, well,  an Andrew Klavan page turner. The plot never stops moving or thickening and as the pieces come together, Charlie finds himself the only hope between … and that’s all you’re getting from me. (more…)