Have you ever went halves on a pizza with 
a friend and split the toppings with the friend's half being a topping
that you deplore? Well, if so, then you know exactly what happens. IN my case,
I HATE anchovies and refuse to split pizza with anybody who wants anchovies 
on their half because no matter what, the anchovie juice will always migrate
over to my side and completely infest the flavor.
Escape by David McMillan is what happens when you accidentally agree to
split a pizza with an anchovie lover. From the first chapter I could taste the
anchovie juice, but tried to continue eating in hopes that each bite would
improve. I wanted to give up on this and toss it in the trash like I would 
otherwise do with a mistakingly ordered split anchovie pizza. But, I paid
220,000Rp. on this book in the Jakarta airport and was determined to finish 
every bite. After reading it, I wished I had eaten an entire anchovie pizza:
It would have cost less and would have been much less painful. 

The writing in this book rivals something from a middle school creative
writing class; no offense 7th graders. The author wastes too much time, roughly
85%, on poor characterizations and dedicates only a few pages to the actual
escape. David McMillan's arrogance is distastful, but then again, robbers
and drug trafficers are not always the types of people that mom wants you to take
to prom. Read Damage Done, by Warren Fellows if you really want to read a good 
story about a Thai prison. I sense that I wanted to escape more from this book
than David did from jail; no hyperbole.

So, this book gets 1 / 10 pizza slices. However, the awarded one slice is cold
and has been resting uncovered in the bottom shelf of the fridge for a week. Perhaps
middle school english teachers should use this book in class as an example
of how NOT to write.