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Mr Amos's first, Homeland, was pretty good, but this - this is the clincher that here comes a novelist with the power to make you lose sleep just to find out what happens. RCP is superficially about music and amateur bands and the horrible way artistes go about their business, but at root, it's about that yawning gap between our dreams and our realities. Anyone who's been stuck in a soul-destroying job and dreamt of great things, without spotting the other great things that life has a habit of slipping in under our noses, will read with a massively satisfying sense of identification. It doesn't entirely tie up at the end, possibly to set a path for the next two in the trilogy, but I hope it doesn't fully tie up at journey's end, because life doesn't. In terms of mechanisms, it flows and ebbs and whirs; the main characters are suitably flawed and complex and the minor ones recognisable but not dog-eared; the plot is nicely turned and the strands interweave well. There is comfort and ease in the writing, and a heartening naturality. I eagerly await the next two.
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