Holy crap I hated Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon. The plot barely held together. The characters were problematic. And the writing was completely overdone. So overdone. Hey, the main character, Sam Spade, just walked into a room! Let’s describe everything he does from picking lint off his jacket to how he puts his hat on a table. Uh oh, did he just pull out his rolling papers? Get ready for a page-long description of how he rolls his own cigarettes that his ever-so-spunky female secretary who clearly has a secret crush on him then lights for him. Spare me.