Spoiler Alert 

Anyone who has not read The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz is hereby advised that this post may contain some unavoidable spoilers. 

That first toe-dip into a new book is such a key moment for any reader. Those first few pages will either put a reader at their ease, enthral them or bore them senseless but one way or another, it’s a crucial moment between author and audience. So, I thought it might be terrifically good fun to try writing a series of ‘first impressions’ posts, where I give my heartfelt opinions on my immediate reaction to a book that I have only just begun reading.

So, without further ado, let’s dive into my first impressions of The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz. 

Anthony Horowitz is one of my favourite authors. I first came across him when I read his Sherlock Holmes novel, The House of Silk, and since then I’ve also devoured and adored a bunch of his other works. In short, I consider myself something of a fan of Anthony Horowitz and was only too eager to get stuck into The Word is Murder.  

The story opens with a brief description of an apparently well-to-do woman entering a funeral parlour to arrange her own funeral. The details here are precise and the pacing boarders on being frantic, giving the impression that the woman anticipates a looming deadline.

A few hours later she is found murdered and somehow or other, Anthony Horowitz himself becomes involved.  

How does he become involved, I hear you cry? 

No idea. After he introduces himself as a character in the story, he spends several pages cramming in references to his other books and TV shows to such an extent that I couldn’t help wondering if I had accidentally bought an advertising catalogue disguised as a novel. 

No, I thought. No, that can’t be it. Horowitz is far too gifted and respected an author to ever do something like that. It’s only been a couple of pages, so he’s obviously just trying to make clear that the narrator is not a fictional character, but is in fact the real life author himself by referring to a bunch of his other works so that the reader will say, Oh, so it’s about that guy!’ 

That’s okay. Actually, I quite enjoyed the little trip down memory lane it provides for Horowitz fans such as myself. I’m sure he’ll tone it down once things get going once he gets into the nitty gritty of solving the actual murder.

All in all, I remain cautiously optimistic that this book might yet become a firm favourite.