I fell into the Grisham trap this holiday with The Rackateer. I hoped for something a little different than his previous 6,000 books and did not get it. I guess a periodic check-in with an old semi-standby isn't a horrible thing; it was mildly diverting.

I remember reading My Uncle Oswald. It's fair to say that it's a fun novel, although there's a strong undercurrent of homophobia and sexism in there. Par for the era, I suppose.