Broken Harbor by Tana French Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I have always been caught by the pull of the unremarkable, by the easily missed, infinitely nourishing beauty of the mundane.”- Broken Harbor, Tana French

In Broken Harbour, a ghost estate outside Dublin – half-built, half-inhabited, half-abandoned – two children and their father are dead. The mother is on her way to intensive care. Scorcher Kennedy is given the case because he is the Murder Squad’s star detective. At first he and his rookie partner, Richie, think this is a simple one: Pat Spain was a casualty of the recession, so he killed his children, tried to kill his wife Jenny, and finished off with himself. But there are too many inexplicable details and the evidence is pointing in two directions at once.

Scorcher’s personal life is tugging for his attention. Seeing the case on the news has sent his sister Dina off the rails again, and she’s resurrecting something that Scorcher thought he had tightly under control: what happened to their family, one summer at Broken Harbour, back when they were children. The neat compartments of his life are breaking down, and the sudden tangle of work and family is putting both at risk . . .

I was putting off reading this book. I know, I know, I need to set aside a certain amount of time- like a week or at least four days- to reading Tana French's work. But I was disappointed with Faithful Place, if you'll recall, and it was a bad month to begin with so I really didn't want to be brought down by even my go-to mystery writer. So I left this book until the last 3 or four days of April, hoping I'd finish it by May.

I don't know why I was so worried about it. Broken Harbor (is it Broken Harbor or Harbour? It's odd to me that the spelling was Americanized, but none of the words were) ended up being another literary police procedural, the kind I expected from The Dublin Murder Squad. 

As usual, we have a brand new main character in the form of Mick "Scorcher" Kennedy. And as usual, he's new and interesting and so different from Rob Ryan or Cassie Maddox or Frank Mackey or Antoinette Conway (remember, I read The Trespasser before I read the rest of the series). I love how French isn't afraid to give each of her characters different views or opinions regarding something; I think that's what ends up making them all feel like individuals. So many authors give all their characters the same opinions on everything (ones that usually mirror the writer's) and I feel like all their characters just blend together. I know that Cassie Maddox's views on, let's say land development because it fits here, probably differ dramatically from Mick Kennedy's. It also makes it harder to guess what the author's actual opinions are, which I like. 

And the side characters were particularly fabulous in this book. Now, I really want a spinoff series following the crime scene techs. French could have so much fun with it- we could have Dr Cooper, Larry (who might have taken Cooper's spot in being my favorite side character), Sophie (who appears in a couple of the other books), Kieran, hell, even Tom the wilderness guy would be great- who knows what shit that guy gets up to. I also think it would be great if she wrote a book that would be about O'Kelly back when he was a rookie detective and some case that he got himself into. That would be a really great book. See, here's the thing about Tana French- her characters, even the side ones, always grab me. She has such a great eye for detail and ear for dialogue and everything that makes a great writer, especially a great mystery writer. 

I enjoyed the actual mystery, too. It was fascinating and sad, following this family as they spiraled downward into economic ruin and madness, even if, as Kennedy said, they did everything right. And there's something about the mysteries that she writes that just capture my imagination. Like in this case, I've always been interested in the effects of something, like poverty, has on the human psyche. With the exception of Faithful Place, the mysteries just stay with me. 

And I love the Irishness of what she writes. While I don't yet understand the subtle nuances of each different accent (and for such a small country there's tons of them), I can still hear the different ways everyone speaks practically in my ear (and does anyone else imagine that Cooper speaks in this flat, kinda nasally voice devoid of all accent?). Her love for her country seems evident, even though she often criticizes it. Her writing is just fabulous too. A common criticism is that her descriptions are too wordy, but honestly, when all her main characters are detectives- typically observant people who notice every little detail- it makes sense to go into detail on everything. I think Broken Harbor was her funniest book so far, too. I envy how effortlessly French can make banter sound, and several times I actually found myself laughing out loud. I think Kennedy's my second favorite of her protagonists (below Cassie, but just above Ryan if not on the same level)

What else can I say? Tana French has not disappointed me again. I would recommend Broken Harbor in particular to anyone looking for a book about desperation and keeping up with the Jones and everything along those lines. It would be a crime to put Tana French in a box labelled "mystery writers". Because what she writes is so much more. As much as I liked the one Jilliane Hoffman book I read of hers, she's not on the same level as Tana French. One's a really great crime writer, and the other is a literary fiction writer whose books happen to be about detectives.

8.5-9 out of 10

Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Because maybe I don't want to leave the planet invisible. Maybe I need at least one person to remember something about me.”- Tell the Wolves I'm Home, Carol Rifka Brunt

In this striking literary debut, Carol Rifka Brunt unfolds a moving story of love, grief, and renewal as two lonely people become the unlikeliest of friends and find that sometimes you don’t know you’ve lost someone until you’ve found them.

1987. There’s only one person who has ever truly understood fourteen-year-old June Elbus, and that’s her uncle, the renowned painter Finn Weiss. Shy at school and distant from her older sister, June can only be herself in Finn’s company; he is her godfather, confidant, and best friend. So when he dies, far too young, of a mysterious illness her mother can barely speak about, June’s world is turned upside down. But Finn’s death brings a surprise acquaintance into June’s life—someone who will help her to heal, and to question what she thinks she knows about Finn, her family, and even her own heart.

At Finn’s funeral, June notices a strange man lingering just beyond the crowd. A few days later, she receives a package in the mail. Inside is a beautiful teapot she recognizes from Finn’s apartment, and a note from Toby, the stranger, asking for an opportunity to meet. As the two begin to spend time together, June realizes she’s not the only one who misses Finn, and if she can bring herself to trust this unexpected friend, he just might be the one she needs the most.

An emotionally charged coming-of-age novel, Tell the Wolves I’m Home is a tender story of love lost and found, an unforgettable portrait of the way compassion can make us whole again. 

I didn't think I would like this book. And I admit, it took me awhile to get into. I wasn't crazy about the main character, June, since she seemed kind of like your typical precocious child character (despite being like 14). 

I was feeling a bit discouraged about not liking it, to tell you the truth. I have been in a slump for the past month, and honestly haven't been in the best mental state either. So many books I had high hopes for ended up just ending up not being great (like A Good Idea, or City of Saints and Thieves, which I didn't write a full review for because I couldn't bear the idea of continuing on long enough to write a full review- I'll write about it more in my wrap-up). 

And then, when I was roughly like 50 pages in, Toby made his entrance. And the book started to improve dramatically. I kind of fell in love (though not romantically, if that makes sense) with Toby. He was so sweet and earnest and he cared so much about trying to make things work with June because Finn loved June and he loved Finn, and I just found him such an endearing character. Around this time, too, I found myself warming up to all of the characters, and fascinated by this family drama unfolding. The relationship between Greta and June, between Finn and Dani, and especially between Finn and Toby, as well as Finn and June. I also liked how real June's family felt. June and her sister had a believable relationship, and I loved how both June's parents (especially her father- fathers too often get villainized for no reason in YA works) also seemed like they genuinely were trying to be the best parents they could to their children. 

The actual subject matter also intrigued me. I've always held a fascination- I suppose you could call it that- with gay culture, especially in the 20th century and especially in the 80s and 90s. And the AIDS epidemic is something that couldn't have been ignored during that time. I believe that that disease is the reason the Gay Rights Movement made little progress until 2000s. During the 70s, the movement was picking up and gaining tons of support, and there were many celebrities who, while they still couldn't really be out and proud, were a lot more open about their homosexuality as they had been in decades past, and for many it was basically an open secret- I'm talking Truman Capote, Halston, Andy Warhol, etc. And then AIDS showed up and the public freaked out and because it began in the gay community (and there it claimed the majority of its victims) gay men were basically blamed for the disease. And, before I get angry comments, I'm not saying that all gay men have AIDS or that they're to blame or that only they can get AIDS. I'm merely stating facts about a conception that was commonly held during the time period. I could go on, but the point is that it was a horrific disease. My mother worked at an ER in a nearby major city and has so many stories to tell about drug addicted prostitutes with AIDS or other colorful characters showed up over the night shift, and remembers the strict protocols put in place about things like nosebleeds, something that used to be an easy fix but because of AIDS became a hell of a lot more dangerous-seeming than they ever were before. 

I could go on and on, but the point is, I think the reason why I latched onto that particular era in gay history is because of the tragedy surrounding it. I am attracted to tragedy in history; it's far more interesting than periods of prosperity. This all comes back to Tell the Wolves I'm Home because if there's one complaint I have, it's that Brunt seemed to have sugarcoated this disease. Even the parts at the end weren't really as horrible as AIDS really was- the disease basically attacked everything in your body. Still, that didn't stop me from enjoying this book. But other than that, the pain that surrounded this disease felt so real to me that I was surprised that the author had no personal connection to the disease, no friends or relatives (perhaps a brother) that died from it. Frankly, that's talent. I've read books by authors who have close connections to things like cancer or what have you and they still can't quite master the emotions surrounding these illnesses. Also, I liked how Brunt didn't use HIV and AIDS interchangeably. 

I really enjoyed the snippets we got about Finn from both Toby and June. I wanted more of Toby and Finn's story, because I found them to have been a really cute couple. Tragic and lovely- just how I like my love stories. For some reason, I'm usually not crazy about LGBT YA books, and I have read quite a few- Aristotle and Dante, More Happy Than Not, We Are the Ants, etc- and even enjoyed some of them, but I just can't get into their relationships the way I could get into ones from adult perspectives. Maybe it's because it seems like the relationships in those books are more about the characters' sexuality than they are about actual love and respect, whereas when the book follows an adult gay couple, it seems like their relationship is less focused on that and more about love. I can believe their love for each other, in other words. And I could definitely believe Finn and Toby's love for each other in this book.

Interestingly, as this book progressed, June took a 180 and I ended up really liking and relating to her. I could relate to her loneliness, to her loving Finn and even hating Toby because she wanted to be loved more than anything else by someone. As much as I loved Toby, I think I would probably hate him too under the same circumstances. Her relationship to her sister reminded me of my own relationship with my sister, though not necessarily by the end of the novel, and also the parts about her sister inviting her to parties and shit wasn't something I could particularly relate to.

This review was kinda everywhere and for that I apologize. Still, I think you should read this book. Seriously. It's a beautiful story about family and love and unlikely friendship and everything I didn't know I liked to read about until recently. It cheered me up despite this horrible month.

8.5-9 out of 10

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“How had it begun? Like everything: with mothers and fathers. Because of Lydia’s mother and father, because of her mother’s and father’s mothers and fathers.”- Everything I Never Told You, Celeste Ng 

Lydia is dead. But they don’t know this yet.

So begins this exquisite novel about a Chinese American family living in 1970s small-town Ohio. Lydia is the favorite child of Marilyn and James Lee, and her parents are determined that she will fulfill the dreams they were unable to pursue. But when Lydia’s body is found in the local lake, the delicate balancing act that has been keeping the Lee family together is destroyed, tumbling them into chaos. 

A profoundly moving story of family, secrets, and longing, Everything I Never Told You is both a gripping page-turner and a sensitive family portrait, uncovering the ways in which mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, and husbands and wives struggle, all their lives, to understand one another.

This was another book I had a hard time rating. I'm not really sure why- it was well-written, the family dynamics and the characters were fascinating, and it was hard to put down. I read it all in one sitting because I kept telling myself "just one more chapter" until there were no more chapters left. The thing is, though, it wasn't necessarily because I found the book especially great. It was because reading this book felt like I was watching a trainwreck. I spent most of the book feeling horribly depressed by just how dysfunctional this family was. I guess unlike other books I usually have a hard time giving ratings to, I knew it would be on the higher end of the scale, but I couldn't decide on whether to give it a 7, 8, or 9 or anything in between.

Ng has an almost unmatchable skill when it comes to crafting family dynamics, especially miserable ones. Frequently, the famous opening line of Anna Karenina called to mind- "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.". Because this family was unique in that it was so different from almost every single book about a dysfunctional family I had ever read. Well, except the mother's storyline- she reminded me of Edna from The Awakening. I couldn't bring myself to actually hate any member of this family. Instead, I found myself pitying all of them. Even the ones I didn't particularly like, like the parents. I understand that both meant well, but they didn't realize that they were destroying their children. I had more sympathy for the father, who seemed more so like he actually loved the children than the mother did- she only really cared for Lydia, it seemed like, and I could also relate to his isolation and loneliness a lot more than I could to the mother's reasonings, but I couldn't bring myself to truly like his character when he started his affair and all that. 

I think my favorite characters were Nath and Hannah. Both of them were in desperate need of a hug and new parents. One scene in particular broke my heart- when Nath brings his mother his folder full of astronauts, hoping for her approval, and she blows him off in favor of his sister. And Hannah! Little Hannah who was ignored throughout the entire book, who saw everything, who just wanted to be loved by her brother and sister and parents. The way the parents treated them made it even more hard to actually like them like I liked Nath and Hannah. Not to mention that I just took to both their personalities. Hannah endeared herself to me from the start, and I loved the protectiveness Nath often felt towards Lydia. They didn't have the perfect relationship, but they felt real. All of the children deserved better parents than the ones they got.

But I don't know. Something held me back from totally loving this book. Maybe it's because I wasn't thrilled with the ending. I thought it ended a bit too neatly, kind of like the ending of Crime and Punishment. I suppose one could argue that Ng realized that this book just was so hopelessly depressing and this family just felt so dysfunctional and even incompatible that she had to figure out some way to end it so it didn't totally seem like a complete trainwreck so she had to make it so a lot of the problems in the book were fixed by the end. She had to give us that happy ending, in far fewer words. I could also see that maybe she was worried about her book being perceived as being against racial intermarriage and especially having mixed-race children so she had to make the father and mother fix their marriage. I admit, too, that that's also where I thought this book was going a few times, and wasn't too thrilled by it. I mean, I did notice that the author did marry and have a child with a white man so I did think it wouldn't be in her best interests to write a book where that was her main message, but still. 

Kind of a minor note, but I wish the relationship (for lack of a better word) between Jack Wolff and Nath was developed more and not just briefly touched upon, but I can also understand Ng's hesitation to veer too much away from the main plot. Still, I wish she didn't just tease us with that. 

At the end of the day, I did enjoy this book, though it left me kind of depressed. And thankful for my own parents, who may drive me crazy sometimes but at least they never forced their own demons onto me or my sister. I am also tempted to recommend this book to some people who regularly complain about how much their parents do things like this, because hopefully they will find that this book is something they can relate to. This book also made me really want to pick up more along the same lines. Suddenly, I really want to read more books about family dynamics.

8.5 out of 10

Everything Beautiful Is Not Ruined by Danielle Younge-Ullman Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“My demon is you. My best and worst is about you: how I need you and fear for you, how I fear for myself if I lose you, how I have let myself be defined by you.”- Everything Beautiful Is Not Ruined, Danielle Younge-Ullman

Then

Ingrid traveled all over Europe with her opera star mother, Margot-Sophia. Life was beautiful and bright, and every day soared with music. 

Now

Ingrid is on a summertime wilderness survival trek for at-risk teens: addicts, runaways, and her. She's fighting to survive crushing humiliations, physical challenges that push her to her limits, and mind games that threaten to break her. 

Then

When the curtain fell on Margot-Sophia's singing career, they buried the past and settled into a small, painfully normal life. But Ingrid longed to let the music soar again. She wanted it so much that, for a while, nothing else mattered. 

Now

Ingrid is never going to make it through this summer if she can't figure out why she's here, what happened to Margot-Sophia, and why the music really stopped.

Does anyone else feel exhausted after typing, saying, or even thinking both that title combined with the author's name? I feel like I need to say it super quickly and all in one word- everythingbeatutifulisnotruinedbydanielleyoungeullman. Even the acronym isn't easier to say- EBINR. I mean, I do kind of like it, since when I read it I think of the Emcee from Cabaret- "So life is disappointing, forget it. In here, life is beautiful!". Don't really know why, maybe because I've been listening to the soundtrack from the movie a lot lately. I'm going to avoid typing this title as much as I can while writing this review.

I'm conflicted. On the one hand, I enjoyed it. And on the other, I didn't. The thing is, I really liked how Younge-Ullman really seemed to be trying to take common YA cliches, many of the ones I personally hate and turn them on their heads. I liked that the "villainous" characters were the hippie/free spirit type, and enjoyed a lot of the shots Younge-Ullman took at them. I also liked how a lot of the bully characters weren't who you'd expect to be bullies, and I loved Andreas, Ingrid's stepfather. So many times stepparents are shown in a negative light, especially stepfathers, and I loved how he treated Ingrid and her mother. 

In fact, the most interesting parts in this book was Ingrid and her mother. I wish the entire book had focused around that relationship, and wished the book followed her travels around Europe or them trying to live a normal life after their bohemian opera life ended. I wish this book wasn't centered in a wilderness survival camp; hell, I wish she had never transferred out of that public school. I love books that follow their main characters after some dramatic event has happened, when they are just trying to live a normal life. 

However, I feel like as much as Younge-Ullman is trying to put new twists on old cliches, she still falls back on them a lot. Especially when it comes to the characters in the camp, and even her main character. I mean, the gay guy, Seth, had your typical ultra-religious parents who wouldn't accept him backstory, another character, Jin, had the usual Asian tiger-parents, and honestly her backstory reminded me a ton of Calling Maggie May (one of the Anonymous books I've written about before). The twins reminded me of Zack and Cody and had kind of a pointless presence. Hell, even Peace-Bob made me think of a cliche. Now, normally I would appreciate a good hippie parody, but Peace-Bob was way too over the top and not subtle at all. Half the time I thought he was joking. And I was also annoyed with how Younge-Ullman frequently described him as being overweight and hairy. I kind of feel bad for overweight guys. Girls who are plus-sized are celebrated in YA lit now, but overweight men are always portrayed as being either dicks or predators. It doesn't really seem right to me. The only characters that really interested me were Ally and Melissa, but neither seemed very well-developed.

Anyway, Ingrid is also kind of cliche. She's your typical "sarcastic" and "snarky" main female character with an over inflated vocabulary who used to go to a special school for special kids and is apparently a music genius and blah blah blah. I was torn between liking her narrative and getting really, really annoyed by it. I admit, when I first saw the letters I broke out into cold sweats, getting bad flashbacks from Mosquitoland, but I ended up snapping out of it. 

Even the writing was hard for me to put my finger on. It was pretty, sure, but it also reeked of pretension and made me think that this author takes herself too seriously. Again, the only thing about this book that I felt was truly original was her mother and her stepfather. This book should have thrown out everything else- the special school, Isaac, the wilderness camp, Tavik, all of that- and focused solely on just Ingrid and her mother, and perhaps her stepfather. They were interesting, real, and I enjoyed learning more about those parts. It got to the point where it was hard for me to resist flipping past the camp and the romance to get to those flashbacks. 

I think this book really felt more like a movie or a teen soap than a book. The dialogue felt awkward and unrealistic, the comebacks felt like they'd sound better in person than they do in print, and everything felt so overdramatic and fairytale. It was hard for me to find even a bit of realism in everything. I think the parts with Isaac highlight this the most. Seriously, they met while locked in a closet in middle school, and then when he does transfer to her school (totally gorgeous now, by the way) he gets pissed at her because of a look he thinks he saw in her eyes. Give me a break. Now that I think about it, this book reminds me of an unintentional parody of those teen soaps. I say unintentional, because, again, I think the author takes herself way too seriously. Her efforts in both creating drama and humor come off forced, and the only things that even remotely felt like real emotions were, again, the bits with Ingrid and her mother.

So, those are my thoughts on everythingbeautifulisnotruinedbydanielleyoungullman. I'd be interested to hear what other people have to say about this book, because I confess that the only reason why I even picked it up was because of a recommendation from BooksandLala (not sure why, since I don't always have the same thoughts/taste in books as she does). By the way, did you notice that it's super trendy now to set books in survival/outdoor education camps for troubled teens? Kind of weird and specific for an idea, but hey, I kinda like it. 

7 out of 10

Sad Perfect by Stephanie Elliot Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“You wish so much that you could enjoy food the way others do. But you can’t because something is there, stuck in your throat-a monster, guarding its castle, your body, and it won’t let the stuff go down.”- Sad Perfect, Stephanie Elliot

The story of a teen girl's struggle with Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder and how love helps her on the road to recovery.

Sixteen-year-old Pea looks normal, but she has a secret: she has Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID). It is like having a monster inside of her, one that not only dictates what she can eat, but also causes anxiety, depression, and thoughts that she doesn’t want to have. When she falls crazy-mad in love with Ben, she hides her disorder from him, pretending that she’s fine. At first, everything really does feel like it’s getting better with him around, so she stops taking her anxiety and depression medication. And that's when the monster really takes over her life. Just as everything seems lost and hopeless, Pea finds in her family, and in Ben, the support and strength she needs to learn that her eating disorder doesn’t have to control her.

I initially picked up this book shortly after Paperweight, but instead got an intense craving for mystery-thrillers and abandoned it in favor of one of those. I came back to this book after I realized that thrillers aren't exactly the best choices when you're trying to claw your way out of a slump before you've been sucked all the way in. I mean, the last time I fell into a slump and couldn't get back out in time I barely read anything for like two years. But I'm getting distracted. 

I found myself distracted a lot while reading this book. I don't know, I just never really felt compelled to pick it up. What should have been a light read to clear my mind ended up taking me like 2 days to read, which is pretty bad for a freaking 300 page book. I mean, this thing isn't Lolita, which was the same length but took me days to finish because Nabokov is an excellent writer but not a very concise one. Needless to say, Stephanie Elliot is not Nabokov, though in her defense she isn't trying to be. I don't really have any excuses for taking the time I took to read this book, I guess, except slump.

I want to start off by talking about the most unique aspect of this book, by far, and that is its point of view. I don't know if I mentioned before, I might have in my We, the Drowned review, but I love unique points of view. I love when books experiment with different ways of telling stories, and have read several successful books that make use of first person plural. Sad Perfect makes use of the elusive second person singular. This was a bold choice. There's a reason why second person singular isn't used often, and that is because, simply put, it's hard. It's hard not only to successfully write it but and also have it make sense with the plot. There are insanely talented veteran authors who can't pull it off. 

So does this book succeed? In my opinion, no. For a variety of reasons, one of which being that, as with all POVs, but especially the not as common ones, you need a reason to choose second person. Whenever authors are trying to decide what point of view to use, they should take a good long look at what kind of story they want to write and which POV would work best. I've dabbled in second person (wow, I sound like I take myself super-seriously there), and find it particularly useful when writing description. In my opinion, second person works best in small doses- short stories or novellas-, with lengthy descriptions of towns and their denizens or character studies or any story really when the narrator is not necessarily the focus of the novel or the narrator is perhaps young and/or disconnected from what is going on around him. It doesn't seem like Elliot had a particular reason why she wanted to go with second person, except that it was interesting and original and would hopefully set her book apart from other eating disorder books. I suppose maybe she thought the choice of second person would mimic how Pea feels disconnected from her disease, like how Shusterman used second person briefly in Challenger Deep to show that Caden's mental disorder has escalated to the point where he can no longer differentiate between himself and the rest of the world, but if that was the case in Elliot's book she would have changed POVs by the end of the novel.

My second main reason why this didn't work is that Elliot simply doesn't have the talent for second person, at least not yet. She seems to think that second person means inserting you wherever I would fit. As a result, half the time reading I found myself subconsciously inserting I in place of you. Because I didn't feel like I was in Pea's shoes at all. Pea had this odd mix of characterization, where I felt like I knew just enough about her that I couldn't relate, but not enough to particularly feel any which way about her. Half the time when reading I would see a statement like "you're too tall" or something along those lines I would think for a split second "no I'm not" before remembering I was reading a book. Maybe I couldn't relate to Pea because there was too much physical description and also the way she acted was just not me. Because I'm not tall, cute perfect boys don't just magically materialize to fall in love with me, and I would rather rip my teeth out than watch The Fault in Our Stars (I would have chosen Annie Hall, because Harold and Maude isn't exactly first date material). Half the time, I think in this book I must have an amazing rack, because why else would someone that perfect be flirting with me? It's strange in that Elliot gave us a lot of physical description, some observations as to how we are supposed to feel as Pea, but almost no personality. I get that we're probably supposed to insert our own personality, but I don't know. It just didn't work, and again I kept thinking that I would never act like that or I would never say that. I wasn't a very good sixteen year old girl when I was a sixteen year old girl. I don't have an Instagram and I always feel so fake whenever I try to use slang, like a 40 year old mom trying to act cool around her teenagers (what is it that you kids say now? On fleck? Is that still a thing?). I think the only thing I could relate to was how Pea hated both The Catcher in the Rye and Harry Potter, two things that rarely get hate and I appreciate it when they do.

The reason why I devoted so much of this review to talking about everything from second person point of view to Lolita is because I really can't remember much else about this book, and it's only been a day since I finished it. The only other two things I remember is that I liked the very different take on eating disorders- I didn't know much about avoidant food disorder- and still don't even after reading-, but what little information we got was interesting, and the love interest sucked. He was literally perfection, to the point where I was expecting some kind of flaw, some catch that would turn the tables on him by the end of the novel. That never happened. 

I also remember not being too thrilled with the way mental hospitals were portrayed in the book. In fact, several times during those chapters I thought "Christ, what is this, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?". I'm always a bit wary when things like medication or mental hospitals are shown in a villainous light, because I don't think it's the best idea to have that image in the minds of teenagers who may be struggling with extremely serious mental issues. I'm talking more along the lines of bipolar disorder or schizophrenia, who absolutely need those resources to stay sane. I don't think authors really realize the unfortunate implications behind this portrayal, but that's something I honestly believe needs to change in YA lit. 

So that's Sad Perfect, a book that, if I'm being honestly, I'll probably forget about. I don't think I should have read this book at this time. But at the same time, I can't see myself going back to this book. Instead, I'd recommend picking up JJ Johnston's Believarexic, one of the best books on this topic I've ever read, with a great message to boot. 

7 out of 10

A Good Idea by Cristina Moracho Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Loss is a strange alchemy that changes you forever, remakes you into someone, something else... It's the price of admission for this whole human experience.”- A Good Idea, Cristina Moracho

Can the right kind of boy get away with killing the wrong kind of girl?

Fin and Betty’s close friendship survived Fin’s ninth-grade move from their coastal Maine town to Manhattan. Calls, letters, and summer visits continued to bind them together, and in the fall of their senior year, they both applied to NYU, planning to reunite for good as roommates.

Then Betty disappears. Her ex-boyfriend Calder admits to drowning her, but his confession is thrown out, and soon the entire town believes he was coerced and Betty has simply run away. Fin knows the truth, and she returns to Williston for one final summer, determined to get justice for her friend, even if it means putting her loved ones—and herself—at risk.

But Williston is a town full of secrets, where a delicate framework holds everything together, and Fin is not the only one with an agenda. How much is she willing to damage to get her revenge and learn the truth about Betty’s disappearance, which is more complicated than she ever imagined—and infinitely more devastating?

I have two hopes for thrillers. One, that they're good, and two, if they aren't good, that they're so bad they're good. I'm talking either Tana French fantastic or Natasha Preston terrible, basically. Typically, though, I find most YA thrillers are bad, but not so bad they make it to fun bad. Most of them have annoying as all hell heroines with no detective skills who like to make things worst and still end up figuring out who did it, cliched settings, and oddly useless grown-ups. Enter A Good Idea, by Cristina Moracho.

Before we begin, a warning: the creepy old bathtub is totally coverbait. It's in the book for maybe a half a scene if that. 

I consider myself kind of an expert in small and rural New England towns. Probably because I am from a small and rural New England town in an area of small and rural New England towns. When most people think of New England they think of the seaside or skiing or those ridiculously wealthy old money WASPs, not really realizing that a lot of New England is in fact small towns with tons of farmland and lots of space between houses. Our towns have charming names and a relatively large town has a people count in the 10000s. I graduated from a school of 4-500, and my class size was considered large at 170 kids. We were actually considered to be on the larger side in the surrounding area because we had our own high school instead of going in with one or two other nearby towns. My point is, I know small towns. I also know that the town in this book is easily the most stereotypical town ever.

Seriously, why are all small and rural towns in YA lit the same? They all have the same tropes- corrupt mayor/sheriff, bigoted people, etc. This town reminded me of the one in It Takes One, which put a bad taste in my mouth. I don't think Moracho has ever been to a New England small town before. Or if she has, she just thinks that this portrayal is the only way to sell books. 

And the writing. Everything about it was just Moracho trying so hard to write a Southern Gothic, Harper Lee kind of story, a twisted rural noir with a main character the teens can relate to and get behind. Did not work for me. Finley's narration grated on me hard and so much just felt like it was there because it's trendy now. Again, creepy small town, "sarcastic" main character, setting the book in the 90s, drug use, excessive swearing, vintage clothing... I could go on and on. Moracho was also trying super hard to get a creepy, David Lynch/Twin Peaks vibe but it just didn't work, because nothing was ever actually creepy. The bits about the ghosts and the "curse" that Betty's death apparently inflicted on the town just felt underdeveloped and ultimately unsuccessful. I've been more creeped out by stories I wrote when I was six than I have been of this book. Also, her written characterization of Finley does not match up with how Finley is actually portrayed. We are told she is sarcastic and she analyzes people like she analyzes movies, always interested in the inner workings of their minds. With the exception of a few lukewarm one-liners, we see no evidence of either of the two in Finley's actual narrative.

And yes, there is an excessive amount of drug use, tons of (underage) drinking, and swearing. This is passed off as no big deal. That didn't feel particularly realistic to me. I mean, I never swear in front of my parents, even now, because it doesn't seem really appropriate. Also, Finley's dad seems perfectly fine with his daughter getting wasted and fucked by people she barely knows. Kind of odd, if you ask me. I'm no prude (well, depending on who you ask), but damn girl, you need serious rehab. 

But hands down the part of this book that just pushed this book over to hate for me was the main character. Are you seeing a trend? If I hate the main character and I know the author is trying to write a likable character, I can't stand the book. Finley is just so annoying and narrow-minded and hypocritical. She doesn't listen to reason at all whatsoever. She gets so many really great and reasonable points or scenarios as to what actually happened to Betty brought up by the adults she talks to and because they don't fit in her perfect little small-minded view of what happened to Betty she throws them out immediately. She couldn't ever actually admit that she didn't actually know Betty as well as everyone else in the town did. She makes so many claims- Betty would never overdose, Betty would never kill herself- and yet she has no idea that she doesn't really know the chick she calls her best friend at all. 

I'll touch more on her hypocrisy in the spoilers, but I just wanted to say that honestly I can't believe that she ever could have lived in this town. She just seemed like just because she lived in New York for four years she's so much more sophisticated than those, how did she put it, "provincial hicks" in her home town. And honestly? Speaking from someone who loves New York City dearly, YA novels are way too enamoured of the City. Take my sister, for instance. Now, ever since she was little, she's been a city girl. Lived for our trips to the City every couple of months or so, always told us that someday she was going to live there, counted down the months until she graduated and went to college in New York. She was home every weekend, homesick for New England and our small town. Sure, she loves New York, but she never looked down upon where she was from as being uncultured or hill-billy, unlike little miss Finley here.

I mean, the other characters aren't really great either. I really did not like Serena, and did not enjoy their relationship at all. Serena reminded me way too much of Eden from Paperweight. The difference here is that with Paperweight, Eden was throughout the whole novel portrayed as an extremely negative influence on Stevie, getting her into drugs, breaking apart her relationship with her brother, etc. all for the sake of drama. Serena, through the entire novel, is considered a good love interest, despite the fact that she's giving Finley highly addictive painkillers (how the hell is Finley never addicted to them, by the way?) and dragging her along in this insane and idiotic plan for revenge. They feed off of each other, and it's never shown as even a potentially bad thing until the last few chapters. Even towards the end, Finley brushes off any warnings she gets about how manipulative and not good Serena is. 

I think the only interesting character in this whole book is Silas. He's like a cross between Dr Jacoby and Leo, if you can imagine that. In fact, the entire novel is kind of like Moracho's trying to write a Twin Peaks. I mean, think about it. Finley's kind of like Donna, and maybe Maddy, too. I get major Laura vibes from Betty (oddly enough, I also get Audrey vibes). Serena's a strange gender-bent mix of James and Bobby. I guess Emily's meant to be a gender-bent Sheriff Truman. The setting is a small woodsy town. But the thing is, I was never that invested in the melodrama of the teenagers' storyline in Twin Peaks. I was always more interested in what Cooper and Truman were doing. And not to mention, I feel like Donna, James, and Maddy weren't so close-minded that they just decided who did it and then tried to make all the evidence fit into that neat little box. They genuinely just wanted to know who killed their friend. Sure, they did do stupid shit like break into people's houses and in one case inadvertently cause a death (I'm still mad at Donna for that), but this book reads like they all figured that, I don't know, Bobby is solely responsible for the death of Laura and then tried their damnedest to incriminate him. 

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

This is one of the strangest mystery novels I think I ever read. It annoyed me how sure Finley was of Calder, and it was odd how it's not really a whodunnit. All I was thinking was that I'd really hate to have Finley on my jury. She's so deadset that Calder killed her that she can't believe any other points of view. And she's a fucking hypocrite because you just know that if Caroline had died from the drugs Owen gave her, then she would be screaming from the rooftops that Caroline wanted to die because she took the drugs herself and of course Owen wasn't responsible at all, but even though Betty literally begged Calder to kill her, Calder's still a murderer. And honestly, Betty's a fucking selfish bitch for even making him do it. If she wanted to die that much, she should have, I don't know, overdosed or walked into the ocean a la Edna Pontellier and spared the man she supposedly loved from having to deal with the guilt of giving her what she wanted most in the world. I don't know. What I do know is that this book just pissed me off.

MAJOR SPOILER SECTION OVER

So do I recommend this book? I don't know. I'm sure someone else would like this book way more than I did. I mean, I did think it was an interesting idea, but I couldn't stand the relationship in the book or the main character. Not to mention, we all know who killed her. I think the real mystery in this novel is why this book even exists in the first place.

4 out of 10

Don't Look Back by Jennifer L Armentrout Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Things aren’t perfect. They are far, far from it,but they are getting there, and I wasn’t looking back. Not when there were so many good things in the future.”- Don't Look Back, Jennifer L Armentrout

Samantha is a stranger in her own life. Until the night she disappeared with her best friend, Cassie, everyone said Sam had it all - popularity, wealth, and a dream boyfriend. 

Sam has resurfaced, but she has no recollection of who she was or what happened to her that night. As she tries to piece together her life from before, she realizes it's one she no longer wants any part of. The old Sam took "mean girl" to a whole new level, and it's clear she and Cassie were more like best enemies. Sam is pretty sure that losing her memories is like winning the lottery. She's getting a second chance at being a better daughter, sister, and friend, and she's falling hard for Carson Ortiz, a boy who has always looked out for her-even if the old Sam treated him like trash. 

But Cassie is still missing, and the truth about what happened to her that night isn't just buried deep inside of Sam's memory - someone else knows, someone who wants to make sure Sam stays quiet. All Sam wants is the truth, and if she can unlock her clouded memories of that fateful night, she can finally move on. But what if not remembering is the only thing keeping Sam alive?

Yes, I have been on a thriller kick lately. There's just something about spring that makes me want to reach for the dark and twisted.

I'm also apparently a bit of a masochist. Sometimes, I like to pick up the other novels of authors that have caused me pain in the past because I want to read some work that might be fun to read in a bad way. Hence Jennifer L Armentrout.

If you'll remember, I hated The Problem With Forever. Hated it. It made number 11 on my Worst Books of 2016 list if I remember correctly, and probably would have been even higher if I didn't read so many bad books in 2016. But for some reason, maybe my mind twisting things to make me feel better, I look back on my reading experience of The Problem With Forever as being, well, a lot of fun. Laughing at the idiocy of Mouse and making fun of Pretty Boy and all that. A The Cellar kind of bad, if you will. So naturally I thought I could replicate that same feeling with Don't Look Back.

Yes, this is a lot of rationalization for why the hell I picked this book up. Because once I started reading it, I started to regain my real memories of reading The Problem With Forever in a very real life imitating plot kind of way. Because this book caused me to remember just how absolutely painful it was to read The Problem With Forever. 

This book hurt to read. I think there's something about Armentrout's style that grates on me. Maybe it's the obvious quotes or pretty writing that just feels so forced. Maybe it's how much filler went in to bloat what should have been a 200 page book into a 376 page book. Now, this might just be personal preference, but I find that the page count from crime novels can and even should number in the high 300s/400s, but YA thrillers should be maybe in the low 300s. Because the protagonists are usually teenagers, they shouldn't have the resources to form a suspect list the way detectives do. Typically, only one person should be at suspect in YA thrillers, and then there could be a twist at the end where it turns out to be someone else. It just makes so much more sense because, again, the protagonist is a teenager with no formal detective training but a few episodes of Law and Order. 

Honestly, this book reminded me of Tragedy Girl in that it was really a romantic contemporary with some mystery elements, but the mystery elements always took a backseat to romantic and friend drama, though it's marketed and sold as a mystery. And Sam was insufferable. Seriously, Armentrout needs help writing characters that don't act like cliches. The whole story arc of her and Carson and the rich bitches acting above everyone else was so stereotypical and made me roll my eyes several times. And Sam drove me crazy, always acting like she was better than all her old friends. I think at one point she commented that the girls (her old friends) could use a doughnut and honestly that just pissed me off. Don't tell a fucking skinny girl to eat a doughnut if you wouldn't tell a fat girl to eat a salad, bitch. Again, her and Carson were such cliches and it pissed me off that Armentrout did basically the same thing that she did in The Problem With Forever, but role reversed so Sam was basically cheating on her boyfriend with Carson. Sure, they broke up eventually, but still, she should have broken up with Del the minute she started feeling something for Carson. 

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but this book makes me miss Cracked Up to Be. It's obvious that Armentrout read that book, and thought she could basically do the exact same thing, but instead attempt to make Sam an actually likable main character. See, Cracked Up to Be is probably my favorite Courtney Summers book, which isn't saying much, but still it's because I liked Parker. I liked how even though she still acted like a bitch even though she lost her evil posse. She was still snobby and overall mean-girl, but she was a fun perspective to follow. In comparison to Sam, who was oddly enough still retained some of her personality- the likeable aspects of her personality, oddly enough- but all of her negative traits were wiped clean, making her basically perfect. And annoying as all hell. I remember one part when this goth boy basically stepped into her and her friend's conversation to say something rude when the conversation had nothing to do with him, the friend insulted him back, and Sam felt angry at the friend and later apologized to the goth boy for the insult that was honestly coming to him. That just pissed me off.

The mystery was bad. I don't feel much like talking about it except to say ugh, because it was so underdeveloped and so secondary to everything else that was going on. I was kind of excited for a second because it was briefly hinted that Carson was the killer, but nope. Of course Armentrout wouldn't have made the love interest the killer, what was I thinking? The actual killer wasn't that great, and felt very unrealistic and soap-opera-y. Did not like.

So, what do I think? Thumbs down. This book was long and painful and horrible to read. No risks were taken, nothing to distinguish it from every other YA thriller out there. I think I'd rather pull my teeth out than read anything by Jennifer L Armentrout again. 

3 out of 10

Pretty Little Things by Jilliane Hoffman Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Vulnerable loners, left alone to grow up, looking for friendship anywhere they could find it and from anyone who would offer it.” - Pretty Little Things, Jilliane Hoffman

Thirteen-year-old Lainey Emerson is the middle child in a home police are already familiar with: her mother works too much and her stepfather favors his own blood over another man’s problems—namely Lainey and her wild older sister, Liza. So when Lainey does not come home from a Friday night out with her friends, it is dismissed by the Coral Springs P.D. as just another disillusioned South Florida teen running away from suburban drama and an unhappy home life.

But FDLE Special Agent Bobby Dees, who has headed up the Department’s difficult Crimes Against Children (CAC) Squad in Miami for more than a decade, is not quite so sure. Nicknamed “The Shepherd” by colleagues, he has an uncanny ability to find the missing and bring them back home— dead or alive. Haunted by the still-unsolved disappearance of his own daughter, Bobby recognizes the all too familiar up-swell inside him, the gut feeling that Lainey Emerson is no runaway. A search of her computer and a talk with her best friend reveal Lainey was involved in a secret internet relationship, spawned over a chat room, and nurtured through untraceable instant messages. Bobby fears she may be the victim of an online predator, and when chilling hand-painted portraits of other possible victims are mailed to a local television station, he realizes she may not be the only one.

The faceless monster from cyberspace, who has gone to remarkable lengths to stay invisible, now seeks a captive audience. And it is Bobby Dees he wants watching. Can Bobby win this deadly game of cat and mouse, one involving the most prolific killer he has ever encountered? And will he be able to save Lainey and the others before it is too late?

This book was fun to read, but not in a bad way. I have been looking for an actually good turn-your-brain-off crime novel author for a while now, and I think Jilliane Hoffman is a good choice. 

I'll be honest, I wasn't sure if I would like this book with the prologue. It took me a few chapters to get into it and realize that I was indeed enjoying myself. I took a backseat approach to this mystery, unique for me. Typically, I like to be a passenger seat driver to mystery novels, trying to figure out whodunnit right along side of the detectives. But in this book, I was fine with feeling like I was along for the ride, watching Bobby and Zo hunt down Picasso. That's not to say I didn't have a guess, but I wasn't that committed to it.

One of the things that I really liked was how even though we do have chapters from the killer's point of view, Hoffman took great care to never actually reveal who it was, and it even served to purposefully throw us off the trail of some suspects. I also felt like the villain's point of view was realistic. It didn't feel overdone bordering on cheesy and definitely unrealistic, like how the kidnapper's perspective felt in Hollie Overton's Baby Doll. I could believe someone could actually think like Picasso did. 

I also honestly liked all the characters, and actually rooted for Bobby and Zo (especially Zo, loved him), which is always unusual for me. I actually wanted Bobby to catch Picasso, to save his career and his daughter. I wanted Lainey to get rescued. And I liked how Hoffman wasn't afraid to kill off characters that we have grown to like in favor of the plot. And I loved the killer. He reminded me of the Gardener from The Butterfly Garden. In fact, this whole book reminded me of The Butterfly Garden and I loved it. Picasso was unnerving, but he was the perfect mix of cool and creepy to make a really awesome villain. 

I also liked how the cyber-predator parts didn't seem too preachy. Instead, they were portrayed in a rather neutral light. Picasso did hunt out his victims through the internet, but I didn't find myself turned off by the abundance and preachiness of internet safety tips or whatever else the internet cops lecture schoolkids about. I also mentioned above that I wasn't sure I'd like this book by the prologue. I thought this novel was going into preach mode about evangelical preachers and feminism and all that. It didn't, and I appreciate that the book didn't go in that direction, especially after Silent Child. 

I do have some complaints, though. My first and most obvious one is the time it takes place because the social media and overall attitudes towards the internet were everywhere. It's established early on that Lainey is a big Twilight fan, and at one point she makes a reference to New Moon (the movie) coming out, which was in 2009. However, Lainey was born in 1998, which would make her 12 in 2011 and 13 in 2012 (not sure if she's 12 or 13 in this book). And then, the detectives mention Snapchat, which wasn't really a thing until (well, technically 2016) 2014, in the same breath as AOL, which stopped being a thing in like 2009, maybe earlier. I believe Myspace showed up too. There was also confusing references to both Instagram and chat rooms, and then I decided to stop trying to figure it out because I was giving myself a headache.

It's just funny to me that I can't pin down a specific timeline because there are other aspects that are so meticulously researched. Like the fact that the brand of paint Picasso uses- Winsor and Newton- is a legitimate brand. Of course, it's also a very popular and well known brand that almost every artist uses, but still. Other things I've noticed is that a ton of things are explained to us. Hoffman takes long breaks from the narrative to tell us things and explain why the detectives are doing what they are doing. It's appreciated, but the transitions between the explaining and the narrative are nonexistent, making it stick out like a sore thumb. Also, a lot of the cop dialogue sounded like it was straight out of a cop TV show, but I wasn't too bothered by that.

I did think it was funny that Hoffman clearly has a flair for the dramatic. Like when Lainey gets kidnapped while Vincent Price laughs maniacally in the background, that was fabulous. We also get a car chase ending in a dramatic fiery crash and oh my God it's fantastic. Also side note: the online name the Picasso uses is TheCaptain, or in Spanish ElCapitan. That cracks me up because it makes me think of Kyle McLaughlin's character in How I Met Your Mother where he's given himself the name The Captain and he's obsessed with boats and Marshall has that great moment where he shows that the eyes of The Captain don't quite match up with his smile and the whole scene is just comedy gold.

Overall, though, I really enjoyed this book. It's no literary work of art, but it's still so much fun to read. I'll definitely pick up more of Jilliane Hoffman- a crime thriller writer whose books are easy to read and who knows how to write a good, disturbing villain? Sign me up!

8-8.5 out of 10

Silent Child by Sarah A Denzil Review

Holy hell, this has over 1000 page views? Wow, I guess a lot of you must hate this book as much as I do...

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“As if the jealousy of a lover could ever compete with the ferocity of a mother.”- Silent Child, Sarah A Denzil

In the summer of 2006, Emma Price watched helplessly as her six-year-old son's red coat was fished out of the River Ouse. It was the tragic story of the year - a little boy, Aiden, wandered away from school during a terrible flood, fell into the river, and drowned. 

His body was never recovered. 

Ten years later, Emma has finally rediscovered the joy in life. She's married, pregnant, and in control again...

... until Aiden returns. 

Too traumatized to speak, he raises endless questions and answers none. Only his body tells the story of his decade-long disappearance. The historic broken bones and injuries cast a mere glimpse into the horrors Aiden has experienced. Aiden never drowned. Aiden was taken. 

As Emma attempts to reconnect with her now teenage son, she must unmask the monster who took him away from her. But who, in their tiny village, could be capable of such a crime?

It's Aiden who has the answers, but he cannot tell the unspeakable.

The author's note in the back cracks me up. Apparently, Ms Denzil has blessed me with her permission to leave an honest review. Now, I didn't really think that I needed her permission in the first place, but hey, it's always nice to know it's there.

This book lied to me. It promised it was perfect for fans of The Butterfly Garden, and that it was a twisty and disturbing psychological thriller. It also promised me it was about a kidnapped boy trying to survive after captivity and a mother trying to figure out who kidnapped her son.

In reality, this book is perhaps better for someone who liked The Girl on the Train, or hell, even The Cellar (though the idea that anyone unironically actually likes The Cellar still confuses me). It's a rather tame "thriller" that ended up being more about Emma than anyone else, including Aiden.

The Girl on the Train is the most obvious comparison, and one I'm surprised the blurb didn't make. Denzil clearly tries to mimic Paula Hawkins' writing style. I don't know, though. I thought the way Silent Child was written felt hollow. There was something off I couldn't quite put my finger on- some of the descriptions and phrases were nicely written, and there was some cool imagery, but it didn't feel like it fit in with the story, and kind of forced. I don't think that's Denzil's natural writing style. That topped off with the fact that there's so much telling and the narrative style was such a turn off made the writing unpleasant to say the least. 

But believe it or not, the writing was the most tolerable part about this book. The characters, and the way Denzil took this story was horrible.

Let's start off with Emma. Emma's one of those martyr mother main characters with a huge victim complex. Everything is about her, and nothing is her fault. If this was a cancer book instead of a kidnapping book, Emma would spend the entire time whining about how hard her child's illness is on her. For some reason, I kept thinking about the mother from My Sister's Keeper in comparison to Emma, and how that mother wasn't a particularly fine specimen of motherhood but I could believe she honestly cared for her children, and everything she did in that book was for her cancer-ridden daughter. She didn't spend entire chapters moping over how horrible her situation was and playing the victim martyr. Honestly, nothing in this book is really about Aiden. Even the motivation for his kidnapping is all about Emma. And to top it off, she's one of those characters who we are tailored to like- the poor, grieving mother in the clutches of bad, bad men. Spare me the Lifetime movie. 

Honestly, half the time I felt like I was reading the literary equivalent of a soap opera. Like the chapters should end with "Next time on Silent Child..." and then open with "Last Time on Silent Child..." with Silent Child written in cursive and there would be a bunch of overly dramatic clips of people talking taken out of context and someone would be dramatically slamming doors and there would be a slow close up of the heroine with tears rolling down her cheeks. My point is, no one in this book acts like real people. Every twist, every turn, all the dialogue sounds nothing like the way real people act. You can tell the villains coming a mile away. I think within the first 10 pages I literally wrote down in my notes "[spoiler] did it. I don't know what yet, but he [let's be honest here, did you ever think Denzil would have a girl do it? Come on now, this is 21st century feminism here!] did it". And honestly, as much as I like when I'm right when it comes to mystery novels, figuring out was the villain this early killed the fun of it. And it being that transparent didn't make the other mystery elements fun, either. It made them just seem boring, especially it's over 400 pages of trying to figure out who is a villain when it's obvious from the first page. 

And the plot felt really confused, too. It's not about Aiden and his kidnapping. It's about Emma. Hell, the actual climax has barely anything to do with Aiden. The resolution of Aiden's mystery- the mystery I picked up this book to read, mind you- is at the end of the book, by the time we're basically done with the story and just want this book to be over. The entire time I was reading, I was drawing comparisons to The Likeness, because I think Denzil was influenced by that book, and yes, in The Likeness one of the mysteries is solved almost as an afterthought. The difference, though, is that French made sure the mystery solved secondary wasn't the mystery the novel advertised itself as being about. In this, Aiden felt like an afterthought. And now, spoilers, because I want to talk about the ending.

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

I mean, it's obvious who the villains of this book are even before the "big reveal". But my God, it takes talent to write a villain as bad as Jake. Seriously. This is why this book reminded me of The Cellar, because Jake and Clover oughta get together. They'd have a grand old time spouting off cheesy villain monologues, spitting out horrid catchphrases (seriously, "hello darling" is on par with "good evening, flowers") and manically grinning while twirling their nonexistent mustaches. Everything Jake said in that little speech during the real climax cracked me up, and made me think that Denzil really, truly believes that the only way to write a villain is make him as despicable as possible. No morally grey characters, here! I think my favorite part in that whole scene was when Jake was giving this dramatic speech about how Hugh (another transparent villain) was right to cheat on his wife with Amy (yet another paper thin villain) and Emma (tied up, with her baby daddy bleeding on the floor) heroically sticks up for marital values. I think I almost pissed my pants laughing at that. For fuck's sake, that's the hill you want to die on? Okay, whatever. Also, Jake hits Rob in the head with a stone statue, leaving Rob to bleed out on the floor. Of course, like 2 hours and a shitload of exposition later, Rob still ain't dead. But when Jake gets hit in the head with the same exact statue, he dies instantly. The fuck? And then Aiden remembers he has a story arc, so he takes his mother (who also happens to be in active labor) to the cage Hugh kept him in for the last ten years while his father is still dying on the floor. His father must be Superman. And no fear! The only villains here are the controlling husband, the cheating husband, and the backstabbing bitch. Don't worry, this is a no-risk zone.

MAJOR SPOILER SECTION OVER

So what is this book? Boring. It's about as twisted as a piece of cardboard left on the side of the road. Hell, I think even The Cellar is more disturbing than this book. It's truly tragic that it was even mentioned in the same sentence as The Butterfly Garden. I think I'll put this book in the same mental place as The Girl on the Train- the kind of book that I would recommend to an angry woman who just divorced her husband for cheating on her. But while I wasn't in love with The Girl on the Train, I still prefer that novel to this one. The writing and mystery both worked better there, I think. I might pick up another Sarah A Denzil thriller if I want a good laugh, but for right now I've got Natasha Preston for that. I'm starting to think maybe English thriller writers aren't for me.

3.5 out of 10