Razorblade Tears by S. A. Cosby

Listen. Reading the Acknowledgements section alone turned me into a diehard S. A. Cosby fan—I will read anything he ever writes. Blacktop Wasteland has already been ordered. 

Paige is exactly right—Razorblade Tears was Thelma & Louise meets Sons of Anarchy… in the best way possible.  Find the rest of her thoughts here.

This story gripped me the whole way through. The growth trajectories of Ike & Buddy Lee felt warm and hopeful, while the killing spree they went on was a catharsis of its own kind—for them and for the reader. The common ground this unlikely pair started on was time in prison, grief, and homophobia; by the end it was so much more (and just enough less). Ike helped Buddy Lee see through his learned racism, and together they learned to love unconditionally (also, how to use their cold-blooded talents for good). 

The character development was flawless—each peripheral relationship gave way to more insight; the use of character foils was both textbook and artful. Dialogue felt authentic, never forced. The humanization of two extremely homophobic, homicidal ex-convicts really predominantly showcases the talent, empathy, and thoughtfulness of the novelist. I was rooting for these guys the entire time, for better or for worse.

I don’t think I’ve read a book quite this gory and action-packed, but Cosby did a gorgeous job of playing each scene out with well-timed and meticulous detail—I felt like I was watching a film, and it’s not my imagination that deserves any credit. There were figurative guts (chutzpah, if you will), literal guts (spilling out onto the ground) and 45 chapters of crude, unapologetic revenge. I was thrilled from cover to cover. 

Razorblade Tears was a journey through all types of evil—sometimes tangible, sometimes less so. It was an exploration of the relationship between death and regret. It was a testament to the steadfast power of a parent’s love. 

It was stunning.