I read this straight through, when it first came out, on non-stop flight from Houston to Seattle. I couldn't put it down. It's that good because it comes straight from David's heart and from his own personal experiences in the oil patch and because he skillfully crafts a spell-binding story that goes beyond a personal memoir. It's wrought with the universal themes of trust, faith and comittment (to name a few). David Wilkinson takes the reader on a fast-paced journey through the eyes of his main character Logan, from Austin to the god-foresaken desert known as The Empty Quarter. There, Logan finds himself as he engages the Arabian desert's ocean of oil with a drilling crew that's made up of the real-life characters you still find in the oil business. I felt like I was there! Moreover, there's some real first-rate writing here that reminds one of Conrad and Hemingway. I hope to see a follow-up to this one from David Wilkinson.

I read this straight through, when it first came out, on non-stop flight from Houston to Seattle. I couldn't put it down. It's that good because it comes straight from David's heart and from his own personal experiences in the oil patch and because he skillfully crafts a spell-binding story that goes beyond a personal memoir. It's wrought with the universal themes of trust, faith and comittment (to name a few). David Wilkinson takes the reader on a fast-paced journey through the eyes of his main character Logan, from Austin to the god-foresaken desert known as The Empty Quarter. There, Logan finds himself as he engages the Arabian desert's ocean of oil with a drilling crew that's made up of the real-life characters you still find in the oil business. I felt like I was there! Moreover, there's some real first-rate writing here that reminds one of Conrad and Hemingway. I hope to see a follow-up to this one from David Wilkinson.

I once pondered, from my squalid apartment in Boston, joining a friend who was heading down to Texas to get a job on an oil rig. He told me nothing could go wrong and the pay was stratospheric. The oil industry was in dire need of guys like us to help get their oil out of the ground and into gastanks where it belonged. Still, due to certain unanswered questions, I continued to hesitate. Then my friend went on a five week drinking binge and nothing ever came of the plan to go to Texas.

Now, twenty years later, "The Empty Quarter" answers all my questions, questions like: Are there girls on oil rigs? Do roughnecks really mix their drinks with screwdrivers like it says in Trivial Pursuit? Does one have to be physically strong to be a roughneck? Is the title literal, i.e., is the employment contingent on the condition of the neck. Is roughneck related in any way to redneck? Or is the condition of the neck a result of the job, and if so, does it happen to women, too, or are their necks protected by long silky hair tumbling luxuriantly from under their hardhats? If there are no women on oil rigs, do they work close by in some sort of air-conditioned office, or, in the case of an offshore rig, on a boat moored within shouting distance of the platform? What is the social status of a roughneck? Is he or she afforded the same level of personal dignity as, say, a busboy in a New Wave dance club?

The story takes place on a rig in Saudi Arabia, where the protagonist, Logan, struggles to escape from the smothering influence of his onetime mentor, Jamie Strong. They are not roughnecks, having moved up a few notches on the oilfield ladder. They command a crew of roughnecks, who are from India. Far from being rednecks, these roughnecks are practicing Muslims, who send their earnings home to destitute families, much as Mexicans do from their jobs in the US. The Indians are treated less than respectfully by the Americans and Europeans, much as Mexicans are treated in Texas or California. In fact, the whole scenario is reminiscent of Texas of the Fifties, with Strong playing a sort of Lyndon Johnson, a powerful and demented yokel, with no thought of anything outside his own gluttonous appetites.

On a previous job in the North Sea, Strong had manipulated some machinery so as to deliberately maim some English roughnecks whom he felt did not show him the proper deference. During the investigation of the crime he switches tactics from swaggering to sniveling, and suborns the callow Logan to perjure himself. In this way he at once evades punishment and brings Logan further under his power by involving him in the crime.

Sadly enough, there are no women on oil rigs, and this could partially explain the tolerance of and connivance in racism and mayhem, since men do trend more toward bestiality when women are not present. It's unclear whether their nonpresence is due to Saudi strictures on mingling of the sexes, or to the heavy nature of the equipment used. "Empty Quarter" is full of huge and deadly machinery: tongs, drawworks drum, slug tank, rotary table, cathead... but none of it is never defined or explained in any way, which lends a patina of historicity to the story, as though it were an actual journal dug out of a roughneck's battered locker in the aftermath of an industrial accident.

So, too, does the story of "Empty Quarter" play out: inexplicable yet seemingly inexorable. The men on the rig rank themselves by race in an era when race has been discredited as a means to determine quality; they settle their differences by brawling in an age when lawsuits and subterfuge have been shown more effective in vanquishing foes. Most puzzling of all is that all the brawling and race-baiting and hatred is in the quest of a commodity that they won't even own, that their own nations won't even own when it is finally gotten out of the ground, so that these poor myopic men are at each other's throats for a few bucks an hour, like Treasure of the Sierra Madre set in a Taco Bell. All in all, it seems a tale of a world that is already disappearing. Probably by now there is software that can do Strong or Logan's job better than either of them--and not fly into a murderous rage when the roughnecks disobey it.

I once pondered, from my squalid apartment in Boston, joining a friend who was heading down to Texas to get a job on an oil rig. He told me nothing could go wrong and the pay was stratospheric. The oil industry was in dire need of guys like us to help get their oil out of the ground and into gastanks where it belonged. Still, due to certain unanswered questions, I continued to hesitate. Then my friend went on a five week drinking binge and nothing ever came of the plan to go to Texas.

Now, twenty years later, "The Empty Quarter" answers all my questions, questions like: Are there girls on oil rigs? Do roughnecks really mix their drinks with screwdrivers like it says in Trivial Pursuit? Does one have to be physically strong to be a roughneck? Is the title literal, i.e., is the employment contingent on the condition of the neck. Is roughneck related in any way to redneck? Or is the condition of the neck a result of the job, and if so, does it happen to women, too, or are their necks protected by long silky hair tumbling luxuriantly from under their hardhats? If there are no women on oil rigs, do they work close by in some sort of air-conditioned office, or, in the case of an offshore rig, on a boat moored within shouting distance of the platform? What is the social status of a roughneck? Is he or she afforded the same level of personal dignity as, say, a busboy in a New Wave dance club?

The story takes place on a rig in Saudi Arabia, where the protagonist, Logan, struggles to escape from the smothering influence of his onetime mentor, Jamie Strong. They are not roughnecks, having moved up a few notches on the oilfield ladder. They command a crew of roughnecks, who are from India. Far from being rednecks, these roughnecks are practicing Muslims, who send their earnings home to destitute families, much as Mexicans do from their jobs in the US. The Indians are treated less than respectfully by the Americans and Europeans, much as Mexicans are treated in Texas or California. In fact, the whole scenario is reminiscent of Texas of the Fifties, with Strong playing a sort of Lyndon Johnson, a powerful and demented yokel, with no thought of anything outside his own gluttonous appetites.

On a previous job in the North Sea, Strong had manipulated some machinery so as to deliberately maim some English roughnecks whom he felt did not show him the proper deference. During the investigation of the crime he switches tactics from swaggering to sniveling, and suborns the callow Logan to perjure himself. In this way he at once evades punishment and brings Logan further under his power by involving him in the crime.

Sadly enough, there are no women on oil rigs, and this could partially explain the tolerance of and connivance in racism and mayhem, since men do trend more toward bestiality when women are not present. It's unclear whether their nonpresence is due to Saudi strictures on mingling of the sexes, or to the heavy nature of the equipment used. "Empty Quarter" is full of huge and deadly machinery: tongs, drawworks drum, slug tank, rotary table, cathead... but none of it is never defined or explained in any way, which lends a patina of historicity to the story, as though it were an actual journal dug out of a roughneck's battered locker in the aftermath of an industrial accident.

So, too, does the story of "Empty Quarter" play out: inexplicable yet seemingly inexorable. The men on the rig rank themselves by race in an era when race has been discredited as a means to determine quality; they settle their differences by brawling in an age when lawsuits and subterfuge have been shown more effective in vanquishing foes. Most puzzling of all is that all the brawling and race-baiting and hatred is in the quest of a commodity that they won't even own, that their own nations won't even own when it is finally gotten out of the ground, so that these poor myopic men are at each other's throats for a few bucks an hour, like Treasure of the Sierra Madre set in a Taco Bell. All in all, it seems a tale of a world that is already disappearing. Probably by now there is software that can do Strong or Logan's job better than either of them--and not fly into a murderous rage when the roughnecks disobey it.

This excellent thriller set in the uninhabited desert of Saudi Arabia on a drilling rig tips you off right away that the writer has both been in the situation himself and done meticulous research. The book is packed with action and fascinating interaction, between men from various countries working for an American/Arabian oil company. There are constant clashes of culture, race, religion, nationality and personality in one of the most isolated situations possible, where the people involved are forced to work aas a team, no matter how they may feel about each other. I particularly enjoy fiction that teaches the reader something about a new subject, in this case oil and gas drilling. The author thoughtfully provided a picture of the works at the front of the book, with many of the parts labelled. Even though it is fiction, I would have also liked some kind of glossary of technical terms. But I sure can't fault the writing--this is one of those books I just blasted through without wanting to put down, and one I can't wait to lend to family and friends. Good books are made to share!

This excellent thriller set in the uninhabited desert of Saudi Arabia on a drilling rig tips you off right away that the writer has both been in the situation himself and done meticulous research. The book is packed with action and fascinating interaction, between men from various countries working for an American/Arabian oil company. There are constant clashes of culture, race, religion, nationality and personality in one of the most isolated situations possible, where the people involved are forced to work aas a team, no matter how they may feel about each other. I particularly enjoy fiction that teaches the reader something about a new subject, in this case oil and gas drilling. The author thoughtfully provided a picture of the works at the front of the book, with many of the parts labelled. Even though it is fiction, I would have also liked some kind of glossary of technical terms. But I sure can't fault the writing--this is one of those books I just blasted through without wanting to put down, and one I can't wait to lend to family and friends. Good books are made to share!

David Wilkinson has given the reader an insider's look at an industry that is about as politically incorrect as exist today. There is, however, no "holier than thou" preaching. Wilkinson's masterful storytelling pushes one effortlessly past any political position. It was wonderful to be caught up in the people as well as the plot. A must read.