I'm in the middle of The Maltese Falcon. I'm not really enjoying it that much. It's not terrible, mind you. I'm not yet ready to hurl it across the room but the idea is starting to tempt me. Maybe the problem is this was written a long time ago in a manner popular to a different age. At this point I don't like Sam Spade much, or the dame with the fluttery handkerchief and I'm starting to rout for the police get their hooks into Spade and take him down a notch. I had always though the movie was though to be good so I figured the book would be better.