Review: I'm a Therapist, and My Patient is Going to be the Next School Shooter: 6 Patient Files That Will Keep You Up At Night

I'm a Therapist, and My Patient is Going to be the Next School Shooter: 6 Patient Files That Will Keep You Up At Night by Dr. Harper
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

There just are no words to convey the depth of my confusion relative to the stellar ratings on this book. The premise is that Dr. Harper has compiled files of six “broken” patients he has treated—and he is allowing readers a peek at what’s inside. The files run the gamut from disturbing to creepy to flat out ridiculous. I expected to see traditional files, with the doodles and notes that Harper mentions at the start, but they were nonexistent. Perhaps it all circles back to formatting issues with the Kindle, but this book is simply a series of six first person narratives, with a paragraph or two added to the end of each as semi-footnotes. Every “file” is almost a short story, without the interesting “stuff”, like, you know, a purpose or even a plot. What they also have in common, besides being files of Harper’s patients, is that the stories all demonstrate Harper’s inadequacies as a therapist. In every single case he also documents his own behaviors, and they, without exception, prove to be unethical, unprofessional and possible examples of malpractice. I didn’t find Harper’s stories to be necessarily “bad”, nor were they entertaining or even funny. I’m not sure what Harper WANTED this to be, as his genre-confusion was evident in the inclusion of a school shooting at the beginning bookended by attempts at humor and social satire that falls flat. I am left shaking my head and hoping those with more insight can share the redeeming qualities I so obviously missed. Two stars because at least he wrote in complete sentences.

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Review: Roadkill

Roadkill by Cheryl Bradshaw
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Caveat: Everyone and their mothers seems to have enjoyed this. Spoiler—I didn’t.

So here we have a book, Roadkill, that begins by introducing Juliette Granger, mother to young Nora, on the run with her daughter. Her character is believable and well developed from that very first paragraph. Then, spoiler—she dies. Quickly. The only character in any way built from the ground up is taken out in a most gruesome manner, and her daughter is missing. Enter Juliette’s sister, Raine. Now here’s a character about whom I couldn’t possibly have cared any less. The fact that she is searching for her niece is admirable, but beyond that there just wasn’t anything redeeming. Trying to imagine her in the role of medical examiner, as she claims, is like trying to find shapes in the clouds—you squint and turn your head and STILL can’t see Aunt Lou’s mirror image, although your sister swears it’s there. Yeah, just not buying it.

So let’s sum it up:
Juliette is on the run with her daughter—and a lot of money.
Juliette is killed (roadkill, if you will)
Nora is missing.
Everyone dies except Raine and Nora
The end.

I just saved you hours that could otherwise have been wasted trying to find value here. You’re welcome.


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Review: The Stranger in Our Home

The Stranger in Our Home by Sophie Draper
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Stranger in our Home was another psychological suspense novel that just failed to resonate and instead left me with more questions than answers. The author also seemed genre-confused and consistently flirted with the inclusion of supernatural elements, but without any follow through. In the end, it wasn’t ghosts or fairies or witches responsible for the chaos, but rather human depravity and immorality.

When the story opens, an anonymous narrator is lying in a hospital bed unable to communicate. Time is then rolled back, and the story actually begins. The reader learns that main characters, estranged sisters Caroline and Steph, have inherited the estate left by their (step) mother—the home where they grew up. After a lifetime of discord, Caroline discovers that Steph seems to have matured beyond whatever pettiness kept them apart, and though wary, Caroline embraces their new closeness. When Steph announces that she wants no part of the inheritance, Caroline puts aside her feelings of unease and moves into the house alone, with her sister’s blessing. Caroline is an accomplished artist, and her goal is to complete a commission to paint fairy tale illustrations while living in her childhood home. The past is never far behind the two sisters, however, and Caroline struggles to find the truth about her own history as well as the truth about long buried family secrets.

The writing here isn’t bad. The characters are believable; the dialogue, realistic. I did take issue with the commission Caroline was hired to complete. The title of the volume of fairy tales was The Pear Drum and Other Dark Tales From the Nursery. The reader learns that a pear drum was an object that played an important role in Caroline’s childhood. As I’ve never heard of a pear drum, I found this coincidence beyond believable. Perhaps somewhere there is a community of pear drum fans who see these every day and play them with regularity. For those readers, the coincidence may very well be one that rings true, but for those of us more pear drum naive, it was too much to believe—and I wanted it to be too much for Caroline as well. Her refusal to even discuss or consider the fact that a pear drum played such a negative role in her growing up and then it suddenly surfaces in a series of tales that seem to strangely reflect her own experiences is worthy of a face palm. Another thing that fell apart for me was the conclusion. Without spoilers, suffice it to say that I wanted more answers about the characters’ motivations and intent, as I felt unable to discern the final truth amidst the misdirections and lies. The shallow approach to drawing this story to a close was cheap and rushed. I invested the time in the reading and wanted to feel like there was some sort of payoff for my investment. Instead, it was hollow and unresolved.

There is one thing I’ve discovered following a marathon read of thrillers—my family isn’t nearly as dysfunctional as I previously thought. And that, my friends, is called a stretch to find the positive.

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Review: The Silent Patient

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Silent Patient was, in the beginning, a test of MY patience, as the slow burn barely kept the glow under the ash. Once the pace picked up, it was an easier read, but it would be a mistake to assume that was because of any action. Any. At all. Seriously, NOTHING HAPPENS.

So, the plot—Alicia Berenson is an artist who, without any prior warning, kills her husband Gabriel by shooting him in the face—five times. After a trial declares her mentally incompetent, she is relocated to a residential facility: the Grove. Theo Faber is a psychotherapist with an obsession for all things “Alicia.” He manages to secure a position at the Grove, where he inveigles his way to work directly with Berenson. The remainder of the novel then revisits Alicia’s life and Gabriel’s murder, as the truth of what happened is (slowly) revealed.

For me, this novel pens a bold stroke under the differences between action suspense and psychological thrillers. Though many may straddle mid court, this is the quintessential example of the latter—a book that crawls into the recesses of the human mind and discovers the capacity for man’s inhumanity to man. Much of the terminology here is psychology “jargon”, and the pages are peppered with it. In fact, buying the conclusion means accepting the diagnosis, and without a background in psychology this necessitates a whole lot of blind faith that I wasn’t able to find. Specifically, there is a comparison drawn between Alicia and Alcestis of Greek mythology. The connection was drenched in “shop talk” and remained a bit cloudy to me, even after a detailed explanation. Nothing was concrete and instead I was left with a feeling of being slightly off kilter.

Overall, this is a well written psychological suspense novel that takes its time and makes no apologies for its reliance on the tenants of psychology (therapy, relationships, etc.) to further the plot. Just not my cup of tea!

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