It’s a wonderful time to be alive, at least until the Mayan calendar runs out next year and the sun goes dark. The year is 2011, the internet rules, I have a magic box in my pocket that can access the
sum total of human knowledge, and a balletsploitation were-swan horror flick is a serious contender for five Academy Awards.

Part of the buzz about Black Swan is purely technical: in this film, Natalie Portman realizes the promise she showed way back in Leon (or The Professional, depending on your country of origin). As of Black Swan, she is one of the greatest actresses of our generation.

I had high hopes for this book. The author is a pal of one of my favorites, Mr Mark Henry. And he’s an MRI tech. That latter factor particularly perked me because I love medical thrillers, and people with medical qualifications are smart, and I like to associate with those more intelligent than I. I was thinking Mr Schreiber would be my kind of writer, a male Tess Gerritsen – and it certainly helped that the aforementioned Ms Gerritsen had a blurb right on the front cover.

Review by Tez Miller