Review: The Silent Patient

4 stars.

Hello. I am one cocktail in. I read this in one sitting on the beach today. This review is going to be LIT. 

Ugh, it's all about the twist, isn't it?

I predicted it about 5 pages prior to the big reveal (after not predicting Mystic River, I'm REALLY off my game!) and here's the thing: I liked it. It clicked for me. In a good way. I feel like we complain a lot about twists - we act like predictability is like, a giant error and somehow ruins a book? No. I'm not someone who is bothered by spoilers because watching two puzzle pieces fit together is satisfying for me regardless of my level of surprise/shock.

Anyway.

The Silent Patient is about a psychotherapist, Dr. Theo Faber (I loooove the name Theo), who becomes obsessed with helping/fixing/curing a mysterious patient named Alicia Berenson. Alicia, a formerly successful painter, was institutionalized after being charged with the murder of her husband, immediately after which she stopped talking. Dr. Theo launches a pseudo-investigation to determine what really happened the night she shot her husband in the head five times. Throughout the book we learn concurrently more about her and the good doctor himself before the rug is ripped from under us per usual.

The writing here is really solid. I recently realized that I prefer and love short, concise chapters, and these are delightfully dainty. It's a pageturner, and really compelling, so you won't be able to put it down. It reminded me a tad of The Woman in the Window, which I enjoyed, or maybe The Girl on the Train? At least in terms of some ambiguous vibes coming from our narrator. The point is - if you are a fan of those types of books, you will enjoy this. If you are not, you won't. 

There's a lot of hype around this book, and it reminds me of the hype around many other releases similar to this. Because it's similar to those. I wouldn't say there's necessarily anything super special about it, but it's not bad. Good writing, good plotting, good twist. There's some really weird narrow-minded stuff about therapy, and some very unrealistic medical stuff, but it is what it is. I'll take that popcorn please.

Beach read win!!

The Silent Patient on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Cross Her Heart

4 stars. I see why there were mixed reactions to this book. Yes, it's completely ridiculous and unrealistic and perhaps even predictable for those of us well-versed in the twists and turns of psychological thrillers. But look, I think I may have liked it for those reasons...? I really enjoyed turning the pages of this one, I really felt the drive to keep going. The writing was great, the characters were distinct and the ending was surprisingly satisfying.

Cross Her Heart is a multiple-POV thriller with flashbacks. In short, concise chapters (which I personally love), Sarah Pinborough tells the story of Lisa and her daughter Ava and how they cope when they are threatened by a seriously masterful villain from Lisa's past. The story unfolds through the eyes of Lisa, Ava and Lisa's best friend Marilyn, each of whom has secrets of their own. It's a classic, twisty, fast-paced mystery with a heart-stopping (if somewhat tidy) conclusion.

As others have pointed out, things do feel a bit forced here. Characters have questionable motivations. Characters fall in love after one date. Characters are generally stupid, fooled and tricked into scenarios I could see coming a mile away. But this is a popcorn book, and I was willing to suspend belief just to let the intensity of the story wash over me. It's a tight plot, you have to admit. Maybe it's cliche at times, but the writing is solid. And there are some fantastic girl power moments.

Maybe you will see it coming. Maybe you won't. Just enjoy the ride. I've certainly read worse.

Cross Her Heart on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Stillhouse Lake

4 stars. My heart is officially racing. 

Stillhouse Lake begins when Gina Royal, housewife and mother of two, discovers that her husband has a secret. A huge, life-altering, sadistic secret. Not a spoiler: he's a prolific serial killer who carries out his crimes in the garage of their family home. When he's finally arrested and stopped, Gina must work to rebuild her life while keeping her family safe from a world that wants revenge. 

She thinks she's finally safe at Stillhouse Lake. It's a small, remote town in Tennessee and she reluctantly settles in knowing her kids could use some stability. And then (typical), a body shows up. Gina has to fight off death threats on a daily basis, now she has to deal with suspicion from the police plus a new copycat murderer. It's a thrilling pageturner with a gut punch of a climax.

Gina is an excellent and well-written character and perhaps the anchor that steadies this twisty turny story. I found her mama bear instincts to be smothering and so annoying but also heartwarming and justified. Caine explores the horrific impact of cyberbullying, internet culture, even dipping her toes into the true crime obsession, adding an interesting and unusual layer of threat for our heroine to deal with. 

Gina also, quite frankly, has no use for men. I really, really, really noticed and loved that. Men are in the story: she meets a few, gets close to one, saves his life, and takes down others as needed, but really, this is her world and the men are just there to fuck up. HA. So just like in real life. I admire Rachel Caine for achieving this so deftly, for taking such a feminist approach.

Gina’s two children, Lanny and Connor, are also well-written. Both have agency and interests and speak in distinct voices. Like their mother, they are traumatized, which I think can be difficult to portray in young people without using cliches. And their presence in the story is nuanced - sometimes they bring humor, or love, or extra fear to the story, sometimes Lanny is a typical irritating teenager and sometimes Connor is naive. They felt like real kids, to me.

Alright, so, this is a thriller, of course there's a twist or two. I happened to predict them early. That's okay. It was still an immensely enjoyable read. I would recommend this for fans of Jane Harper - both craft concise, character-driven thrillers with awesome villains and intense action sequences. And yeah, THAT ENDING. I want more.

Stillhouse Lake on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Red Sparrow

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. In some ways this is a very typical spy novel full of technical tradecraft, desk-thumping, breasts and a whole lot of America fuck yeah!! Pure male fantasy. Also, I don’t trust the author’s portrayal of a Russian woman. Or of Russia, actually. I'm sure Jason Matthews tried to be fair and inclusive, but if I were Russian I think I'd be slightly offended with how cleanly the story came across as good vs evil. Matthews basically spells out for us his theories on Putin and Russia and the political resentment pitting these two countries against each other and ... it's just too simple.

Also, men: a woman should never, ever be blamed for the fact that you are attracted to her. Jesus.

But there is some surprisingly delicate, beautiful writing here - the element of Dominika’s color clairvoyance, for example, was lovely. I liked the recipes! The caricatures of U.S. politicians and bureaucrats felt astoundingly real. Sure, the romance was predictable and boring and melodramatic, but it earns three stars for an engaging, interesting plot and a tight story.

Red Sparrow on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Pines

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

2 stars. Secret Service Agent Ethan Burke arrives in Wayward Pines, Idaho to investigate the disappearance of two fellow agents. Upon arrival, Burke is involved in a serious car accident and wakes up in a town where nothing is as it seems. Stranded and confused, Burke begins to unravel the mystery of the town in an adventure that ends in a fight for his life.

Well, this book was exhausting. And not in a good way.

It was sort of like one giant, extended chase scene (that seriously pushed the limits of reality) with a bizarre plot twist at the end.

Don't get me wrong - the plot twist was fascinating, and twisted, and science fiction in the BEST way. It's just that EVERYTHING ELSE - the writing, the characters, the dialogue - was so shoddy it detracted from the impact of the big reveal.

I actually ended up skimming a lot, especially toward the end. And I'm such a weirdo perfectionist that I almost NEVER skim, even if I hate what I'm reading.

I just couldn't take any more of "Ethan's Survival Guide to the Idaho Wilderness." I just couldn't handle another scene in which the superhuman secret agent somehow avoided the town mob armed only with pure adrenaline and insane rock-climbing abilities.

It's such a good concept. But man, is the execution poor.

I really liked the author's afterword, and his obvious admiration of Twin Peaks. In my opinion, though, had he channeled even half the subtle creepiness of David Lynch into the story, he would have been much better off. It was obvious that something was wrong the minute Ethan arrived in Wayward Pines - but that was the problem. It shouldn't have been that obvious, at least not at first. The town shouldn't have fought him so hard so quickly. The clues should've been more subtle, and quiet - and thus would've been so much more unnerving.

Watch the TV show instead. It's a tremendous mystery that makes so much more sense.

Pines on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Looker

4 stars. I feel so lucky that I can, in this day and age, read extensively about complicated, layered, real women. Women who are capable of good and evil. Successful women with problems, women who are fulfilled in different ways, strong, stubborn, obsessive, struggling, sexual women who fuck up and buck up and own the fact that being a women means being a fighter. Women who are large and loud and present.

Yes, we still have a long way to go, particularly in featuring women of color and other diverse voices. But I'm thrilled to see so many artists explore what it means to be female, especially under the surface. I particularly enjoy authors like Gillian Flynn, Madeline Miller, and Ottessa Moshfegh, who poke and scrape and peek under the blanket, pulling at the knots, giving even the most grotesque and dangerous of us a pointed spotlight.

More of that, please. I really do eat it up. But when so many artists - starved to be heard - jump on the train, that train gets crowded. And common elements emerge. Trends. And suddenly what once felt new and fresh feels derivative and stale. Things start sounding familiar. 

A depressed, spiraling, recently-separated, wine-guzzling, self-loathing, utterly judgmental female becomes obsessed with someone. Another female, perhaps. Becomes tangled up in a crime. She is unlikeable, and an unreliable narrator. The Girl on the Train. The Woman in the Window. Notes on a Scandal. Even Sharp Objects. And now, Looker.

AND IT'S AWESOME! I loved it. Yes, it feels familiar - in the BEST WAYS. This is a succinct pageturner that takes you into the mind of a middle-aged college professor, recently separated, who becomes infatuated with an actress who lives down the street. Yes, she guzzles wine, she's full of self-loathing, she swings between envy and anger, she's hypercritical of others - all characteristics we see frequently in these types of books. But Laura Sims manages to keep things moving in a sharp and witty way, placing you right in the terrifying headspace of someone suffering a nervous breakdown.

I think what's so terrifying about this is we can all relate to our unnamed narrator, in small ways. Her outlook overlaps ours. I think many of us have experienced a bizarre sense of entitlement when it comes to celebrities we admire. Her struggles with infertility sound absolutely brutal and serve as a fascinating explanation (not excuse) for her descent into madness. I liked the tight focus and the level of detail, despite it being so short. I liked the poetry. And I loved the ending.

I would argue that this isn't solely about the obsession with the actress, so don't go in expecting that. It's about a variety of factors and circumstances, internal and external, contributing to one flawed woman's breakdown. Her sense of justification was twisted but very human. I was glued to the pages as she slowly lost her grip on reality. I almost rooted for her. I almost rooted for her to go for it, to cross the line. Looker provided a really weird, and really fun, reading experience - a true, in my opinion, psychological thriller.

Looker on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Sharp Objects

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. Here's a summary, for those of you who somehow haven't encountered one yet: Camille Preaker, fresh out of a mental institution, reluctantly returns to her hometown on a work assignment. Wind Gap, Missouri is reeling from the murders of two young girls, and Camille is told to write a story on the deaths for her small Chicago newspaper. Unfortunately, she has a horrible past and a horrible relationship with her family (specifically, her mother). Still grieving the death of her sister from years ago, Camille tries to gather the facts for her story while unintentionally unearthing the darkness from her childhood.

I loved Sharp Objects, but warning: this is not a feel-good book. I know it's cliche to say, but Gillian Flynn is a super gutsy writer and that comes through significantly in this narrative. She features characters that hate themselves and hate everyone around them (and somehow don't feel like antagonists - they feel very human). Camille, in this novel, is incredibly superficial and harshly critical of others - she zeroes in on every potentially unflattering characteristic of those she encounters and highlights them in grossly detailed ways.

This is also a bit of a Gillian Flynn trademark. The gross details. I remember her describing vomited spaghetti in Dark Places - the words she used left quite an impression (warning: there is a lot of vomit in Sharp Objects, too). Then again, seeing vomited spaghetti would likely leave an impression if I had seen it with my own eyes.

So maybe that's one of her strengths - her ability to realistically describe what we pay attention to. When someone at the table gets spinach in their teeth, it's all anyone can think about. Basically, Gillian Flynn has a knack for pointing it out. And describing it in the most disgusting way possible. And somehow making the spinach-wearer seem hateful even though the spinach-wearer isn't technically at fault. I just love her grotesque style.

I also loved the story. I figured out what was going on almost immediately, but that didn't take away from the experience at all. I found myself reading and rushing and reading and rushing because I wanted confirmation so badly.

Look, this book is disturbing. It is dark, especially in its depiction of women as villains and as victims. I may return to expand on how upon reading Sharp Objects,I felt as though a piece clicked into place in the puzzle of what it means to be a woman. But for now, I'll just say that I loved every word. A home run.

Sharp Objects on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Give Me Your Hand

4.5 stars. Wowza. Even just the title - Give Me Your Hand - can mean so many things. It can mean “let me help you” or “I support you” or “trust me” … but it’s a demand, not a request, and if you trust the wrong person, you’re doomed. And it’s especially compelling considering the astounding amount of gender discrimination by women among women, which shouldn’t still be news, but yes, women are capable of severe targeted destruction in competitive environments. How can we trust our friends, when they are often our enemies?

Megan Abbott attempts to unpack this and more in her latest nasty masterpiece. Our protagonist, Dr. Kit Owens, is shocked when her ex-best friend, Diane, appears in her prestigious research lab. Working with her - alongside her - is unthinkable, considering Kit knows Diane’s secret, a secret that begins to resurface with shocking and violent consequences. Can they put the past behind them? Move forward for the sake of science? Ambition collides with fear and regret as the two women fight, almost literally, to the death.

I would like to point out that every woman in this story is layered and interesting. Not a single one of them is formulaic or bland, and they exist to take action with agency. I’m used to seeing female characters serve their male counterparts, helping them move toward center stage, and here it’s the other way around. Abbott has turned something - a convention, a habit, an expectation - on its head, and I am here for it. Also refreshing: questionable decision-making aside, Kit tangibly, and successfully, fights her insecurities.

Speaking of questionable decision-making, I love that deep within this book’s most intense moral quandary, a woman chooses her career over the “right thing to do.” I mean, I don’t recommend her choice, her judgment is unethical at best and illegal at worst. But there’s a part of me who, perhaps in light of recent events, reacted with a fuck yeah girl, I get it, it’s the only way. It’s the only way to get anywhere, to survive, to get what you want. I rooted for her. Which makes you wonder: are we dangerous? Are we as dangerous as men claim, or fear? I think we can be. Maybe that’s the point.

So many questions. Good questions.

Logistically, Give Me Your Hand is a slim and satisfying page-turner with several enjoyable twists. There’s a hint of noir, a boldness of flavor, and a Hitchcockian aftertaste. I docked a star for melodrama but Abbott’s writing is gorgeous and profound and her ability to stoke a campfire of tension inspires. I know I keep coming back to her women, but her women. Her complex, driven, terrifying, sexual, arrogant, fierce, incredible, misguided women. They are addicting. They are cold and wonderful and broken and they are fighters. They fight to show their potential - friendly or otherwise.

Give Me Your Hand on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: You

5 stars. WOW. Blown away. What a brilliant, relevant book. Recommended reading for millennials, especially. Caroline Kepnes is a new-to-me voice, and her voice cuts deep. Nothing and no one is safe from this one. I feel like I need a shower, or a hot meal, or a stiff drink.

You is written in the second person. The voice belongs to Joe, a young bookseller who develops an obsession with a young writer, Beck. Yes, “Beck.” He searches for her, finds her, stalks her, courts her, steals from her, kills for her. And we witness it all through his eyes.

There’s nothing new about a sympathetic bad guy - an antihero - or an unreliable narrator. These concepts are widely used and widely enjoyed. I think many readers will find ways to root for Joe and sorta maybe hope he’ll win, in the end. And Joe is funny, smart, fucking charming.

But there are no winners here. That’s abundantly clear from the second Joe implies a pattern to his obsessions - that he has fixated on a woman before, and that it ended badly. The sense of dread only grows as Joe circles his prey. It’s not pretty.

And look, just because he’s not trustworthy doesn’t make him wrong, all of the time. If we choose to believe that Beck truly behaved the way she did, shit, she’s horrible! She didn’t deserve what she got, but wow, everyone in this book is fucked up.

That feels real, to me. Compelling and different. Different, hot. Atypical. And almost comforting. Like we’re all ridiculously awful and we like awful things and it’s all about avoiding the people who are somehow worse.

Existential crisis aside, You was an incredibly enjoyable read and Joe’s voice will stay with me for a long time. Forever, maybe. I loved his ups and his downs and his outrageous outlook. Kepnes captured entitled masculinity perfectly, and it’s disgusting. But he does feel correct, a lot of the time. Hmph.

Further reading: Notes on a Scandal. Maestra.

You on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)

4 stars. I really, really enjoyed The Dry and COULD NOT WAIT for Force of Nature - and, thank goodness, I wasn't disappointed. Jane Harper has once again achieved a short, sharp mystery with a capable, well-intentioned hero.

Several months after the events of The Dry, Federal Police Agent Aaron Falk is forced to investigate the disappearance of a source in an isolated forest. His source - a CFO with a  mean streak - walked in with four companions on a corporate retreat, and didn't walk out. The story alternates his present-day investigation with flashbacks to the "retreat" and slowly, excruciatingly, the truth is revealed.

Upon finishing The Dry, I felt like I had just read a completely classic thriller - with all the would-be tropes, cliffhangers, shady characters and twists and turns to be expected - except IT WAS REALLY GOOD. The writing was REALLY GOOD. And I feel the same way about Force of Nature. The writing is again atmospheric and fantastic. The mystery is compelling and concise. And the setting - with the paranoia and fear of getting lost in the woods - is borderline terrifying.

If I had one complaint it would be that this one didn't feel as sinister as the first. The outcome just felt unfortunate, rather than gritty-dark. But that's just a preference and everything made sense/felt right.

Aaron Falk, my boo, my favorite somewhat-damaged detective. You are so good, so reliably good. I will follow you anywhere. Can't wait for book number three.

Force of Nature on: Amazon | Goodreads