Review of “Driving For Justice” by Justin Kojok

Score: 92+/100 (9.2+ out of 10)

Driving For Justice is an ambitious, positive, and inspiring novel by Justin Kojok. It blends the legal/courtroom genres (the author's area of expertise) with drama, realistic fiction, contemporary fiction, and urban life. It also has a strong, underlying humanistic and existential themes.

The book follows seasoned New York lawyer John Sanbian of Kombat & Associates. John Sanbian is tired and jaded of his legal career, particularly its artificial and overly-strict and structured nature. He says that everything that goes on in a courtroom is “transactional” and similar to theater.

John understands that a lot of the work that goes on in the courtroom is scripted and highly controlled, kinda like a movie set. Everyone says the same lines and goes through the same routines day after day, a lot of times defending someone they know is probably guilty or persecuting someone who is probably innocent. Why? Because that's just the way it is. Furthermore, it's a lawyer's job.

John is on a hamster wheel. Everything has become predictable and mechanical. He feels trapped in the “golden handcuffs” of his legal career.

We can definitely relate to that feeling. We all feel trapped or stuck from time to time. We all feel obligated to do something we don't want to do (or something that our moral compasses might not entirely agree with) because, well, that's just the way that it is. We need to make a living. We need to survive. We need to provide for our families. And, perhaps more relevant to John's situation, we will have dumped so much of our time, energy, and funds into getting the education to be in the position we're in (i.e. a lawyer).

A lifelong idealist, John wants to finally break free and branch out from the rigid, artificial life in the courtroom. He wants to be himself and try something different, something fresh and new.

To that end, he decides to become a night driver for a ride share company known as Laafia (comparable to Uber or Lyft). He presumes that this will allow him to meet a variety of unique, interesting, and inspirational new people who may be able to teach him a thing or two. And, well, he's right!

The list of passengers/riders and the variety of experiences he has with them is plentiful. There's at least one rider who is a musician, one who is a filmmaker, one who is a film critic, one who is a traveler from Spain, one who is a young aspiring lawyer, a paralegal, students, and more!

They touch John in some ways, and he touches them in others. After almost every encounter, John concludes that everyone and every thing has a story to tell, we are all connected somehow, and that it's not the destination, it's the journey.

In one of the most heartwarming parts of the novel, a group of theater performers enter his car willing to sing anything that John wants. John asks them to sing “Moon River” (from Breakfast at Tiffany's, and the theme song of Andy Williams). They all gladly sing it together. This moment and song resonated a lot with us personally.

John also encounters several people who know him from the legal career including an unstable, seemingly-suicidal/homicidal man who partly blames John for his broken life. However, perhaps the most important person he gives a ride to (in the context of the the plot) is an old courtroom rival with a great degree of fame, Samantha Maanpaak.

In fact, Samantha even has paparazzi chasing her and following her around like she's Trump or OJ's lawyer or something. Geez! That's a bit... excessive.

Anyway, about halfway through this book, Samantha actually helps to provide readers and this book with some semblance of a conflict, something that it seemed to be sorely missing, seemingly meandering and spinning its wheels as John came to virtually the same three conclusion dozens of times, just worded differently: everyone and every thing has a story to tell, we are all connected somehow, it's not the destination, it's the journey.

Not only does Samantha give John a way to make amends and for an antagonistic character (like Samantha) to redeem herself, it also allows the two former rivals to work together against a bigger-bad like they're Rocky Balboa & Apollo Creed in Rocky III. Along with Daniel, the three become the “three comrades” and “the trio” in an effort to vindicate Samantha in light of scathing accusations. The bond is “forged in adversity and mutual respect.”

In our notes, we wrote something along the lines of: “FINALLY A CONFLICT AND A POTENTIAL VILLAIN!!!” around page 230.

Lila, John's supportive wife, pops in from time to time to give him words of encouragement and to—somewhat bizarrely—philosophize like she's some enigmatic reincarnation of Confucius or Socrates or something. She starts conversations saying things like “John, the hours are late and the world is quiet” like she's in a Shakespearean play! We wrote in our notes: “WHO TALKS LIKE THAT!?!”

Honestly, we don't think we enjoyed Lila as much as the author intended. The problem with Lila is that, like a lot of this book, she's redundant, repetitive, and unbelievably sentimental and philosophical. She's supposed to be helping John to come to a realization that he never had, yet she usually just echoes the same realizations he's had dozens of times throughout the book: everyone and every thing has a story to tell, we are all connected somehow, it's not the destination, it's the journey.

And, funny enough, when she says it, it's somehow supposed to have more impact and profoundness than when the librarian and janitor said almost the same things. We should add that there's a fourth theme or message that keep reverberating like a broken record: reconciling John's dual lives.

We don't want to be too harsh and harp on this too much, but it really became grating and cloying after a while.

Everyone has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Every rider has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Every street has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


The city has a story to tell
Recapture the magic of the journey, not just the destination
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Every cab has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Every passenger left a dream
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Every passenger is a verse in the poem of life
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


Each photograph told a story
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives


The city's tales seemed to unfurl before them
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives

It's like a rapper using the same rhyme or tune in every song. No matter how great it is, it becomes tiresome after a while. At a certain point, we just wanted to throw up our hands and say: DUDE! WE GET IT ALREADY! We got it the first forty times you said it! Can we get on with the plot now? Can we have some conflict other than the same existential, humanistic conflict with the predictable outcome that John's been going on and on about for like 300 pages?

It's like watching the same guy come to the same epiphany and have the same arc a dozen times. Could you imagine if every single paragraph in an essay had to start or end with the thesis statement? Wouldn't that become annoying after a while?

At some point, at least, John realizes that he's not only a keeper of individual stories but also of the memories of the city itself. This seems to happen at the time he encounters the bookstore owner. He then goes from his usual:

Everyone has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives

...to telling the City of New York “I see you now” and pledging to preserve it. It is kinda funny and strange how overhyped people get about this lawyer-turned-Lyft-driver. Like, they put him all over the news. They build statues of him and his wife, Lila. They name buildings after them. They name a park's playground after them. They write, sing, and name a song after them. They have a parade. It's a bit... excessive.

Like, you'd do those types of things for a president or a war hero. Like, John is great, but... is he THAT great? And Lila... what did she really do to warrant having all these things suddenly named after her? The two get treated like pharaohs or gods on earth. It's kinda bizarre how over-the-top it all is. It seems so... contrived and forced. A similar thing happens in the author's other book, Whispers in the Vineyard, in which everyone relentlessly praises the main character and tells them how much they changed the town in their brief time there. In that book, events that we literally just read about are reenacted on stage, and the audience is described as being emotional and even crying. Again, it almost seems contrived or forced, like the author is making us feel a certain way rather than just feeling that way willingly.

There's a reason why Vegeta is more popular among Dragon Ball fans than Goku. It's because we don't have the narrator constantly telling us and reminding us that he's good, beloved, the best, the greatest, and the most wonderful. The same can be said about CM Punk or Randy Orton in comparison to John Cena, who was portrayed by WWE as the over-the-top white-blooded boy scout who could do no wrong and ALWAYS WON. Similarly, it just felt forced and fans pushed back and rejected Cena because of it. The same with John in Driving For Justice or Loom in Whispers in the Vineyard. You don't need to keep telling us that they're great and wonderful and kind and self-sacrificing and caring and beautiful and handsome and amazing and incredible and the greatest and the best. All that does is drive the reader/consumer of the media against them. It's like being force-fed. The food could be great, but we don't want to be forced to eat it.

You know who isn't force-fed to us? Samantha. She's a great, gray character who is shown to be vulnerable and have flaws, weaknesses, and insecurities that we didn't constantly have to be reminded about. She also doesn't talk like she's Plato (i.e. Lila) and isn't a white knight like John. She admits to her mistakes in the past and shows regret and guilt because of it. She's a character who actually has a meaningful and powerful arc that isn't just the same four epiphanies over and over again:

Everyone has a story to tell
It's not the destination, it's the journey
We're all connected, we're all human
Reconcile my dual lives

Now, on a positive note, John is a very good man and an inspirational character—a great example to follow. Like, if you wanted your kid to be like someone, John might be it. John is an idealist who pushes back against the norm and the system. He is said to have chosen law to help people. He values “moments not minutes.” This is contrary to other lawyers who charge by the hour. His first case was stepping up for a mere food vendor who was wrongfully accused. Even when his associates scoffed and laughed at him for wanting to do the right thing (saying, “idealism is a young man's currency”--a GREAT line by the way!), John still pledged to do the right thing and fight for people who were innocent even if it meant losing a case or two. He would respect the evidence and the truth of the narrative, not twist it. He would do the right thing as a lawyer and as a human being. Now, that's admirable and commendable! We respect that! This is the kind of lawyer you would want on your side.

Another thing we appreciated about this book was how flowery and poetic the writing was. There was a lot of alliteration. For example:

“The most powerful dreams are the ones we dare to live while awake”

“...a mix of despair and desperation.”

“...stories and secrets hidden in every corner”

"...skyscrapers loomed above like silent sentinels" .

“... the heart needs more than verdicts and victories”

There's also great use of personification, for example:

“...the night seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of dawn.”

“Guilt is the heart's way of asking for forgiveness.”

So, this book is a good book overall. There were times when it got on our nerves and became a bit redundant and repetitive, but it ultimately came around to redeem itself.

Check it out on Amazon!