...Tasty, but not particularly filling.  As one reviewer noted, this has the unmistakeable feel of a movie treatment.  I had thought that the novels that movies were based upon were supposed to be richer in detail, full of character development and those characters' interior worlds.  Crichton glosses from one scene to the next, introducing just enough detail to keep the plot afloat for the next action sequence.
No, I wasn't expecting Shakespeare, and yes, Crichton does bring up some interesting ideas about the dangers of nanotechnology and biotechnology.  (Not worthy of a three-page bibliography, usually reserved for scholarly works, but interesting nevertheless.)  Still, this book seemed rather less imaginative than anything by Philip K. Dick, and I found myself not particularly caring about whether the wife would live, or whether the kids were OK, or the end of the world, or anything like that.  The characters were two-dimensional, hurried, barely even sketched.
Great idea, haphazard execution.  Perhaps Mr. Crichton's editors are too much in awe of the author-as-moneymaker to offer him constructive advice on the basics of creative writing, but I'm sure there are good community college programs toward that end if he's interested.
... Tasty, but not particularly filling. As one reviewer noted, this has the unmistakeable feel of a movie treatment. I had thought that the novels that movies were based upon were supposed to be richer in detail, full of character development and those characters' interior worlds. Crichton glosses from one scene to the next, introducing just enough detail to keep the plot afloat for the next action sequence. No, I wasn't expecting Shakespeare, and yes, Crichton does bring up some interesting ideas about the dangers of nanotechnology and biotechnology. (Not worthy of a three-page bibliography, usually reserved for scholarly works, but interesting nevertheless. )  Still, this book seemed rather less imaginative than anything by Philip K. Dick, and I found myself not particularly caring about whether the wife would live, or whether the kids were OK, or the end of the world, or anything like that. The characters were two-dimensional, hurried, barely even sketched. Great idea, haphazard execution. Perhaps Mr. Crichton's editors are too much in awe of the author-as-moneymaker to offer him constructive advice on the basics of creative writing, but I'm sure there are good community college programs toward that end if he's interested.