The Ice King: A Novel - Softcover

I love The Ice King. Of course I'm partial, but if you could be 12 for just a few minutes, seated at a table soon after your father's untimely death, and hear the sniveling uncle from Mother's side of the family berate and insult him, you too might mumble: "You wouldn't say that if he was here, you chickenshit motherfucker." Then you too could experience the amazing process by which time and space slow down to single frames as the sniveler rises and reaches with a backhand smack to the face--you too could see the time between the frames, in which to raise your fork with two greenbeans still skewed, and stick all four prongs into the on-coming forearm. You could hear the sniveler scream bloody murder as you slide under the table and scramble for the exit with a quick glance back to see the wounded screamer grab a frying pan, to spank you or maybe to brain you and end your father's legacy forever. Then you could savor the passing years, in which a boy grew and gained weight and a sniveler aged and shrank. And now you can read The Ice King.

Seething with the need to break free, the boy escapes into a lifelong quest for adventure, but he does not forget old scores to be settled. He is his father's son, a bond that death cannot diminish. From the Ice King he learns patience, and in the end, justice is delivered. The Ice King can take you back to a time not so long ago, when most of the world was unpaved and trees grew across the street. A time when a kid could get into real trouble without weapons or drugs.  The Ice King is magic, and so is the book.