Charlie Huston has earned pretty good reputation writing fast-reading,
            funny noir tales with lots of violence and lots of swearing. His
            prose is close to unassailable and his subjects tend to be as light-hearted
            as one can be when writing stories about severing heads, torturing
            cats and inventive uses for baseball bats. This is not to say there's
            no substance to his previous work; there's plenty of pith social
            commentary in work like 'Caught
            Stealing' or 'Already
            Dead'. As much
            as can be sandwich in-between marathon uses of the word "Fuck" and
            surgery a la Jackson Pollack. But the commentary isn’t the
            point of these books; the fun and the style are. Whether he's writing
            about vampires in New York or hapless hit men, Huston tends to go
            well beyond the realm of ordinary experience. 
            
        With 'The Shotgun Rule' there's no loss of fun, and there's plenty of
        style. But Huston's first standalone novel is achingly realistic; beneath
        the tough-guy talk, there beats the heart of the downtrodden American
        working-class family. Crushed by economic and social forces, tortured
        by the decisions offered in everyday life, the boys and girls, the men
        and women of 'The Shotgun Rule' are exactly the people you'll hope not
        to remember from your life in the 1980's. And the fact is that you won't
        forget them after reading Huston's powerful tale of past lives that come
        to the surface and apples that never fall too far from the tree. 
        
        As the novel opens, it's summer 1983 in a shitty little suburb somewhere
        east of the East bay in Northern California. George is the suave older
        brother, Andy, the dweeby tag-along genius; Hector the Latino punk rocker,
        and Paul the migraine-prone font of violence. The four boys give Andy
        a ration of shit when he gets his bike stolen by one of the Arroyo brothers.
        The Arroyos are bad dudes, they live in the sketchy house. George and
        company decide to get Andy's bike back. It proves to be a bad plan. Lives
        unravel faster than you can say, "Maybe we should..."
        Houston preserves his style and humor here. Fans of his previous books
        will find 'The Shotgun Rule' just as funny and just about as violent
        as anything else he's written. But starting with the carefully observed
        characters, Huston stays well within the unfortunate bounds of everyday
        life in 'The Shotgun Rule'. This is to say, that in just about any American
        city, you can turn on the eleven o'clock news and hear about shooting,
        robbery, a murder, or a burglary. The people who do this stuff are the
        characters in 'The Shotgun Rule', and they’re a poignant and often
        repugnant bunch of people. It's not just the kids we met in Huston's
        latest, though they stand front and center, pretty much flipping off
        the reader and everyone else in range. As he gets inside each boy, he
        draws a sharply-etched picture of the terror, the alienation, the ugliness
        of American teens; and yet he still loves these boys. 
        Moreover, he loves the parents, and you will as well. The adults, sort-of.
        Some of them have matured, and some of them have just learned to act
        like adults without actually maturing. As for the criminal elements,
        they're also strangely likable. Moreover, Huston manages to make them
        simultaneously pathetic and threatening. It's an awesome treat to read
        about these scums-of-the-earth, even though you might think some of them
        live next door.
        The action in 'The Shotgun Rule' manages to be nearly as over-the-top
        as that in Huston's previous work, but it much more spookily believable;
        at least if you believe what you see on the eleven o'clock news, and
        live in a sufficiently violent locale. But all the battle and gore in
        the world won’t keep you reading unless it is grounded in characters
        you care about (we've that all sewn up, see above) and properly paced
        with scenes that may not involve mayhem but do involve the reader. Huston
        has that all sewn up as well. Scenes that fall into the "getting
        to know the characters" slot are just as gripping as scenes that
        fall into the "watching the characters kick ass/get their asses
        kicked" slot. This is aq book with only good parts.
        For all the humor, for all the gnarly, nail-biting terror that Huston
        unearths in his East Bay extravaganza, the real draw here are the real,
        raw emotions he puts so easily on display. 'The Shotgun Rule' is one
        of the most honest, unvarnished looks at a side of American life you
        rarely see portrayed in fiction. Huston gives readers both sides of the
        story, and the sweetness at the heart of the relationships is even more
        powerful for all the economically induced dysfunctional behavior that
        plays out. If we're lucky, we just know about these people. They're the
        mug shots, the now-dead high-schooler graduation shots that blink into
        our lives for a few moments as we drift off to sleep. Life is pretty
        damn ugly here; always will be, I suspect. So are these people, until
        they’re a part of your life. And upon reading this novel, these
        people will be a part of your life. Your friends; our neighbors; maybe
        even you.