Not quite as good as watching James Roday run around like a lunatic in tv but at least I can imagine it in my head. ( )

I think I read these books just because I miss the show.. and the pithy repartee these two have. And in all honesty, that is why I read the book- which didn't disappoint in the shenanigans department- the mystery was okay, but completely secondary to the interpersonal relationships that Shawn and Gus have within this made up community. ( )

Mind Over Magic, the second book to be based on the television show Psych, is a quick, entertaining read and, happily, an improvement on the first book. The case that Shawn and Gus must solve is itself more interesting than the one in the first book, and it all dovetails rather nicely. The truism which Shawn and Gus lampshade in the book - that magic tricks always seem less special once you know how they are done - is also true when it is revealed to the reader how the mystery is solved, but this is a minor quibble, as is the fact that Juliet O'Hara is yet again an underutilised character. The book has plenty of humour and is easy to follow, and feels true to the TV series in dialogue and plot development. With the show having very recently decided to end after a fantastic eight-season run, the Psych tie-in books may prove to be a helpful balm for fans suffering from withdrawal. ( )

Mind Over Magic is the second in a series of books based on the characters from the TV show Psych. In this book, Shawn and Gus go to Santa Barbara’s mythical “Fortress of Magic,” the meeting place of elite (and not-so-elite) professional magicians. The place is abuzz because P’tol P’kah, the “Martian Magician” who has been wowing Las Vegas audiences, is set to do an act in which he dissolves in a tank of water and then re-materializes in the crowd – except that he never re-materializes and a corpse is a found floating in the tank. Shawn and Gus are hired by P’tol P’kah manager to find the missing 7-foot-tall green man (a harder task than it seems) while the SBPD is hampered in their murder investigation by the appearance of a federal agent who may or may not be with the Department of Homeland Security.

Like the first in the series, this book is primarily for viewers of the TV series, and fans of the show will find this novel spot on. The characterizations, dialogue, and plot are exactly fitting with the show. There's even a brief prologue set in 1988, just like how the show usually starts with a past exchange between young Shawn and his father (and sometimes young Gus also) that ties into that episode's story or theme. The only thing I felt was missing was Shawn's frequent "Gus-don't-be-a" [fill in the blank with some preposterous word or phrase]. However, in this book, we did have the delightful addition of Shawn’s frequent mistakes of P’tol P’kah’s name, including P’eter P’arker, P’stuffed P’imento, P’Torky P’kig, and a whole host of others that made me chuckle. Detective O’Hara’s characterization did seem a bit off in this book (especially the multiple references to her carrying a gun in her purse – I can’t recall her ever carrying a purse on the show and her weapon always seems to be handier than that when on duty), but to be fair, her character is the least well developed on the show anyway.

With 200-plus pages instead of roughly 40 minutes of airtime, there is more space in this book to flesh out the storyline, provide additional red herrings as well as twists and turns, and give Gus and Shawn the opportunity to jet set to Las Vegas at times. This book’s mystery was much more difficult to disentangle both for the reader and the characters (there were several times when Shawn declared he had cracked the case before he actually did figure out what was going on) than in most police procedurals. Unlike the show, the book’s third-person narration serves to provide a little insight here and there on characters' internal motivations, so that we get some back story on Gus, Lassiter, etc.

There were also some really great self-aware moments where the book mocks police procedurals in general and even laughs at the show itself, such as the following two passages:

“One of these cases we should really change positions,” Shawn said, opening the car door and slipping into his seat. “Then you can have all the really brilliant insights and I can be wrong all the time.”
Shawn slammed his door closed before Gus could say anything. Gus pulled his own door open and leaned in. “And then you can be helpful and supportive, and I can be a smug jerk. And I can dress badly, too.”

”I have an idea on that,” Shawn said. “But let’s hold off on the dead guy for a minute. Instead we should--”
“Let’s not,” Gus interrupted.
“What do you mean, ‘Let’s not’?” Shawn said. “This is my theory, and I get to lay it out however I want to.”
“Sure, when you’re talking to Lassiter or to Chief Vick or to a client,” Gus said. “Then you can lay out your explanation step by step, making sure every piece is in the perfect place to build audience expectation. Then you hit them with the big finale, and everyone’s left thinking you’re a genius. But you don’t need to sell me, so why don’t you just say who the dead guy is now?”
“In the time it took you to lay out that objection, I could have explained everything.”
“No, you couldn’t,” Gus said. “You couldn’t explain a cheese sandwich in less than five minutes.” Gus pressed his fingertips to his forehead and scrunched up his eyes as if he’d been hit with a migraine. “I’m sensing something. It’s a condominium. No, wait, it’s a comic book. No, close to a comic book. It’s—it’s a condiment! Yes, I’m sensing mayonnaise. It’s saying, ‘Put me next to the lettuce.’”
…
“So who’s the dead guy?” Gus asked, bending down to check the last few cabinets.
“I have no idea.”
“You told me you did,” Gus said.
“I thought if I kind of ramped up to it, the solution would come to me,” Shawn said. “And it might have, if you hadn’t distracted me with all that endless blather about mayonnaise.”

There’s also this delightfully clever passage when the book evokes fellow USA network show Monk:

As soon as the body was lying on the ground, Shawn jumped away from it, waving his hand wildly to shake off the corpse-water. “Wipe! Wipe!” he shouted.
“Wipe what?” Gus said.
“It’s not a verb; it’s a noun,” Shawn said. “You’re supposed to hand me one of those little moistened towelettes they give you at barbecue joints.”
“Maybe I should give you half a chicken and a brisket sandwich while I’m at it,” Gus said.
“I’m the detective; you’re the assistant—”
“I am no man’s assistant,” Gus interrupted. “Especially yours. I’m your associate.”
“Fine,” Shawn said. “I’m the detective, and you’re the associate. And the associate is supposed to carry a supply of sanitary wipes in his purse just in case the detective happens to touch something disgusting.”
Gus stared at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever hard.”
“Really? I thought it showed some real consideration on the associate’s part. Also, you’re supposed to be a pretty blonde. If you’re not going to carry wipes, you could at least work on that.”

The snarky humor is one of the things that I love about the show, and this book has it in spades also. All in all, this is a fast-paced, light read and I look forward to the rest of the book series. ( )

I completely see why people say this is their least favourite of the Psych tie-in novels.

The plot was completely unbelievable and would not have translated to screen without the use of CGI or "secret twin brothers". The wrap-up didn't seem to fit the premise of the mystery and Shawn, once again, was acting more Hercule Poirot than (fake) psychic. ( )