I kept waiting for something to happen in this novel. It never did. It turned out to be a story about institutional food preparation, coffee-making and forming a sales cooperative for flea markets. The hero makes a mean omelet. The crew drilled for emergencies, but never had one. I didn’t need a space battle, but something life-threatening would have at least kept me awake.
The author’s style is conversational, which makes the book very readable. And he does say that his aim was to write of ordinary people making a living—albeit on a space freighter in the black. But come on. One reviewer compared this to “Two Years Before The Mast.” Hardly. These folks not only set their sails with the push of a button, they live a cushy air-conditioned life with no hardship whatsoever. And, alas, no suspense.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 