Ian Rankin's latest novel Doors Open. Does it live up to the hype?

If only one person wants to read the book, it is inevitably discarded.

But that's not the point of a book club. The point of a book club is to embrace one another's choices and perhaps be surprised by something you wouldn't usually read.

So, at a recent meeting our host E proposed a new rule - our Book Club host would choose the next month's book without any debate. It is now on a six-month trial.

Hence why we ended up reading Ian Rankin's Doors Open.

Now, I had always intended to read an Ian Rankin - since the days my old friend (another E and therefore a flaw in my use of my friends' first initials) used to rave about Rebus.

I'd always planned to read one but never quite got around to it.

So I was quite looking forward to Doors Open - a crime novel about three art lovers who embark on a daring art heist in Edinburgh.

I was so disappointed.

First, let me say I've nothing against the genre.

But for a writer so acclaimed - I was badly let down by the characterisation.

The plot was pacey enough but perhaps that was the book's downfall.

I spent the first chunk wondering why on earth the main protagonist, multi-millionaire Mike Mackenzie, would bother to conspire to steal some artwork.

The loose reason given was that he was bored - but that didn't help me make the leap from three men vaguely discussing 'what if we carried out a robbery' to the same three men enacting it a few days later.

You are meant to believe one of the trio - secretly planning to dupe the others - lead the others into it, but I didn't find him particularly persuasive either.

Then there's the 'gangster' who helps them out - a cliche if ever I've read one. He's a bit thick and a bit coarse, you see - goodness knows how he managed to run his own criminal empire. Then there's a mysterious Scandinavian called 'Hate' - oh, honestly!

Throw in a bitter, washed-up but ultimately on-the-money detective and bang, you've lost every shred of creativity and originality you were ever gifted.

If it hadn't been for Book Club, I probably wouldn't have bothered to finish this book - but then I wouldn't have had the good fortune to happen across the ridiculously cheesy scene where the 'hero' and 'heroine' are facing imminent death at the hands of said gangster and Scandinavian...

What do they do? Make clever wisecracks, of course.

And when said 'hero' is being carted off to prison, what does our 'heroine' do? Promise she'll wait for him of course, even though he's a moron with more money than sense and the couple haven't exhibited a flicker of believable affection throughout the entire book.

What drivel.

If I sound bitter, that's because I am. I expected so much better.

Can I be bothered to read my first Rebus now?

I suspect you aleady know the answer.