Cormac McCarthy has won the Pulitzer for his novel The Road.
I read The Road last year during my year of reading dangerously, and I have to say it's a powerful story. And scary. God almighty is it scary. There were times when I just had to put the book down and walk away, and I dreaded going back to it. Friends, that doesn't happen to me. I've never had a book affect me that way. I read The Shining when I was a kid and it didn't scare me this bad.
That said, the ending of The Road leaves a lot to be desired. It is horrible, tragic, as everything you and the narrator have feared since the first pages of the book finally comes to pass. And then - Boioioioing! it all gets fixed, quick and neat as that. Deus ex machina - God out of a machine - a wanton violation of the prime directive of fiction writing. He wrote himself into a corner of horror from which there was no reasonable escape, so he escaped unreasonably.
Even so, everything up to that point is definitely worth the read. I nominated this book for the Nebula and it probably deserves to win that, too. Cormac McCarthy isn't the first author to find himself at the end of his book with basically nowhere else to go and 20 more pages to write. In fact, of the 30 or so novels I read during my year of reading dangerously, I'd say all but one or two suffered the same or similar lame and/or hurried cop out in the last pages. It's an unfortunate fact of reading and something that distinguishes the really good writers from the really great ones.