Matthew Reilly writes video game novels. No, I don't mean novelizations of big-name game properties like Halo or Starcraft. Instead Reilly's novels feature the kind of relentless action sequences that pepper the best first person shooters and action games; the kinds of over-the-top, seat-of-your-pants action thrillrides that have made guys like Nick Cage and Michael Bay rich over the years.

Reilly's novels rely on straightforward action and little else; like a Serious Sam game set to words, except without as much justification for the violence. Whereas Cage/Bay summer popcorn flicks attempt a modicum of purpose when it comes to their actions scenes, Reilly tosses everything--motive, reason, even the very laws of physics--out the window, in his attempts to create 500-page shots of adrenaline.

I just finished Temple, the second Reilly novel, and I'm struck by the same two questions I asked myself after finishing his earlier book Ice Station:

1) How did this guy get a book deal with such a hyperbolic, hyperactive, damn near immature writing style?
2) Where can I find his next book?

The most charming aspect of Reilly is his complete lack of self-editor when it comes to piling on the action. If you think a plot point is precariously illogical, just wait ten pages and it will get worse. A few examples:

In Temple, he combines neo-Nazis, a German special forces unit, ancient Aztec myth, and a lingustics professor from New York City all searching for an ancient idol that can blow up the world; and it works. He locks his main characters in a Hummer being drowned in a Peruvian river while crocodiles and giant panthers attack them from all sides; and it works. In Ice Station, he pits French commandos against American scientists, a group of killer whales and a hyperintelligent seal. I kid you not. And it works.

Here's a typical paragraph from a Matt Reilly action scene, completey unaltered from how it appears in Temple:

And then he dropped down onto the conveyor belt and rolled quickly backward, underneath the the chopper's blurring blades, using his newfound leverage to yank Anistaze forward neck-first, right into the buzzsawlike blades of the helicopter!

Since when did "buzzsawlike" become a word? And check out all those italics and exclamation marks. It's like a journalism teacher's worst nightmare. Yet for whatever reason--the non-stop pace of his books, the winking self-deprecating dialogue, or just his simple exuberance--Matt Reilly's books are the kind of things great action movies are made of, the kind of thing great action games could be made of.

You ask me, a game publisher needs to hire this guy right away and get him scripting a new action title. Personally, I wouldn't mind shooting some French commandos... or killer whales for that matter.