Review: The Boy from the Woods

The Boy from the Woods by Harlan Coben
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Harlan Coben is amazing. Really. In fact, I may just be his biggest fan. Everything he writes is just so well-constructed that the pages seem to turn themselves, and time spent between those pages becomes irrelevant. I inhale his work like oxygen, and it all leaves me a little heady.

As with his other books, the characters here stand alone yet will be familiar to those who follow closely. It’s the beauty of the lure—those new to Coben will still find a full-bodied story that is fun to read, while devotees will find small details that are familiar, evoking a giddy sense of being one of the “in-crowd”.

There are plenty of reviews here that will impart plot details and analyses of character motivation. Ignore them all, buy the book and dive in, head first with no expectations. I promise you will emerge, some hours later, feeling like you’ve found a new vice—and one that is easily indulged, as this author’s body of work is as vast as it is enjoyable.

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Review: My Dark Vanessa

My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



My Dark Vanessa turned me inside out—a story that struck intensely personal chords, while it simultaneously forced the acceptance of truths absurdly foreign. In the trailing fringe of the #metoo movement, this tale calls into question the role of perpetrator and victim, and shines a spotlight on the moments that come to define us.

Vanessa Wye is a fifteen year old girl, with one foot in childhood and the other stretched over the divide of adolescence and into adulthood. Emotionally, she is a teenager struggling with being an introvert and finding her place as a student at a prestigious boarding school. Intellectually, she is inquisitive and curious, eager to reach beyond her years and dive head first into complex abstracts for which she has no foundation. It is her need to find a way to position herself in relation to newly acquired, and beyond her years, constructs that allows a trusted teacher to slowly and insidiously wend his way into every cell of her being. The question becomes how to convince a teenager, who is eager to be loved and racing toward maturity, that she is in truth a puppet, manipulated by a man who has groomed her to believe that she holds all the power—a teenager taught to equate being a victim with weakness while also made heady with romantic notions of tragic love and lust.

This wasn’t what I would call an enjoyable read, but for me, it was an important read. The convoluted questions that arise from the abuse of power, the accepted nuances of victimology and the ultimate accountability for one’s actions are examined through the lens of a woman who has allowed herself to be defined by a relationship that is as dark as it is damning. Book clubs will have a field day here, dissecting responsibility, pedophilia and issues of blame and repercussions. Those with personal demons who, even years later, find themselves wrestling with guilt reinforced by someone who abused his power, will find pieces of their lives scattered here—sliver of sharp truths that may reside like splinters in the psyche, but that once examined may finally warrant removal.

Well-written and in a format that takes one from present to past and back again, Kate Elizabeth Russell has given readers a book that deserves five stars.

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Review: Oona Out of Order

Oona Out of Order by Margarita Montimore
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As a general rule, one of the things I most appreciate about a novel is the author’s ability to suspend my disbelief, even in the most fantastic of circumstances. I suppose this is why the sci-fi genre has never appealed to me. I need to believe to be engaged—the read must have some semblance of realism. Although after perusing the synopsis, I began this novel with great skepticism and little hope, I ended truly impressed and surprisingly sated. Slap my ass and color me pink—I really liked this!

When the reader initially meets Oona, she is a starry-eyed eighteen year old, celebrating New Year’s Eve and looking forward to her New Year’s Day birthday. As the story unfolds, the reader is treated to a rollercoaster ride through Oona’s life as she is experiencing it—one year at a time, though completely devoid of chronological order. Each year, on the eve of her birthday, Oona finds herself “jumping” to, and waking up in, a new, random year. She travels forward and back through time, adjusting to each stage in ways that are always in keeping with her actual chronological age as measured from that fateful eve of her nineteenth birthday. Aware of the disconnect, Oona struggles to make sense of new and old relationships as she mourns losses she never actually experienced.

Does it make sense? Not a bit. Are there gaping holes in the logic used to support character behaviors? You bet! Was it, in spite of these things, a fun read that captured my imagination? Absolutely. This is a read that will require a few leaps of faith, but the payoff is a wistful, sometimes whimsical, look at life by way of a poignant tale that is sure to capture your imagination. A definite 2020 favorite.

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Review: The Silence

The Silence by Daisy Pearce
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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Review: PANIK

PANIK by Chris Selwyn James
My rating: 1 of 5 stars



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Review: The Truants

The Truants by Kate Weinberg
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I just turned the final page of this novel, closed my Kindle and breathed deeply the sharp night air snaking in from the open window, under and around my blinds. For the past six hours, and for an hour last evening, I had been shrouded in the blanket of oppressive closeness created by this author—an absolute heaviness that enveloped me and pressed down while chapter after chapter reeled out as if behind a gauzy curtain, just slightly out of focus. The effect is at once unsettling and alluring.

This magnificent book, Weinberg’s first, is tragically beautiful. The story is one that has been told a thousand times over—the exploration of self that is part and parcel of a first year college student caught in the romance of the experience. Never before, however, has the story been told with such poignant and exquisite language. Weinberg’s prose is absolutely captivating as she unfolds each character, encouraging us to fall in love with each of them even while exposing the tragic flaws that simmer just below the surface.

The story is linear, but insights are always hindsight and aspects of the tale are revisited and turned over to reveal hidden intent. It’s an engaging approach, though it does have its limits. The final pages that complete the journey to the conclusion meander and sometimes read like a stream of consciousness. It is here that the reader is shaken and forced to pay close attention, to activate prior knowledge gained in early pages and to keep up with the overactive thought processes of the narrator. As such, this is not a beach read, but rather a deep dive that requires a great deal of concentration to achieve a satisfying payout. This forced focus adds to that feeling of an elephant sitting on your chest as you read—you desperately want him to move so that you can breath again, but in this case, moving the beast means ending the novel. The reader is faced with a dilemma of wanting to emerge from the suffocating tone, where the cruelty of truth lays bare betrayal and deceit, and yet wanting to remain in a drowsy, romantic state, where the wine flows freely and the possibilities are endless; where that fine line between love and lust is obliterated.

I hope that this isn’t the last we hear of Weinberg. Her ability to manipulate language so that it, in turn, fully immerses the reader is unparalleled. It’s only January, and I’m sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that this will feature in my top reads of the year. Right now, it’s at number one and has set quite the bar!

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Review: The Likely Resolutions of Oliver Clock

The Likely Resolutions of Oliver Clock by Jane Riley
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I just turned the last page of this unique novel and find myself ambivalent regarding its merits. Whilst the writing is solid, the structure well-constructed, there was just something missing.

Oliver Clock is a 39 year old man experiencing his very own midlife crisis. As his name implies, his clock is ticking, and he has suddenly become acutely aware of his lot in life. Oliver inherited the family business (a funeral home that enjoyed reputable status within the community) when his father quite suddenly passed away. This unexpected loss thrust Oliver into the role of running the entire enterprise, though his overbearing and rather abrasive mother retains 20% ownership and a highly coveted 99% of the decision making. Oliver is alone and lonely, though he fantasizes about a woman whom he professes to love from afar—the married florist who does the majority of the floral pieces for the funerals Oliver organizes. The story follows Oliver through his 39th year of life as he faces tremendous personal loss, becomes mired in his grief, then seeks redemption through a reawakening of self. It is this painfully slow journey toward self awareness that consumes the majority of the pages.

The story told is a straightforward first-person narrative from Oliver’s perspective, and so we must trust that he is a reliable narrator—even as we discover him to be a profoundly boring character. I never felt invested enough to root Oliver on or to wish him ill-will. In fact, the same held true for each of the characters—rather flat and predictable, with a few even portrayed as cringe-worthy stereotypes. I found myself simply disinterested and reading to just muddle through in order to finish the book.

The single redeeming factor was the author’s generous use of both similes and metaphors, figurative language that brought to life the colorful visuals. There are no true stunning moments, but rather a gentle integration of details that lifted the story from the pages and tickled the senses. For example, these few sentences when Oliver draws a bath and adds perfumed elements to the water:

“Instantly the water went yellow and fizzed like sherbet. Purple cornflower petals swirled like tea leaves. Steam aromatic with an oily fragrance curled up from the bath.”

Additionally, for those who appreciate a very dry humor, there are a few moments sprinkled throughout that tease a smile. For the most part, however, it’s a painful drudge as the story stumbles toward a predictable conclusion without ever gaining any momentum.

This author is clearly gifted, and as I’ve never read any of her other work, I cannot attest to growth or movement in her abilities. In the end, however, I’d leave this one on the shelf.


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