Review: Signs of Life: A Post-Apocalyptic Pandemic Survival Thriller

Signs of Life: A Post-Apocalyptic Pandemic Survival Thriller by L.L. Akers
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

::SPOILER—I HATED THIS:: If you’re looking for anything positive, it’s time to turn around and go home. In fact, I am, for the first time in a very LONG time, having trouble finding the words to describe this….story. Forget the post apocalyptic genre completely, and instead imagine some Frankensteinesque mash up of Lassie and Pee Wee’s Great Adventure cast with only dogs. Ok, so there is an apocalyptic bent here, as Ebola makes a come back, and an imported Ebola vaccine turns perfectly acceptable humans into Walking Dead extras. I believe the entire Ebola-sickness ruse was, however, created solely to function as a vehicle through which this author was able to deliver the story of one plucky little mutt named Moses, who made a selfless journey fraught with flesh eating, blood, gore and death—all for the love of a human. (And if you think that last sentence was bad, you might want to skip this entire book). Canines in the story converse in complete sentences with not only each other, but diva house cats, owls and squirrels that are apparently afflicted with ADHD, while the humans, through the use of sign language and inane conversation fuck up everything one chapter at a time.

I keep diving into these indie authors hoping for gold and finding….well, NOT gold. As much as I love this genre, there is more dross here than in any other except perhaps soft porn disguised as romance novels. I. JUST. CAN’T.

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Review: Stay Awake

Stay Awake by Megan Goldin
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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Review

Megan Goldin’s Stay Awake is a suspense-filled, well-written mystery with some structural challenges that unfortunately weaken the integrity of the novel—a flaw that pulled me from the book again and again, and often just when I was finally completely immersed. Goldin introduces the reader to the main character, Liv: a woman with a debilitating ailment. When Liv falls asleep, with her consciousness goes her memory. As a result, her angst-filled waking hours are laden with confusion, frustration and fear. One moment she is a successful writer for a vogue magazine; the next she is alone, living a life that is almost recreated daily, a murder suspect with no clear knowledge of the truth. To support Liv, Goldin has created friends, social workers, love-interests and colleagues, each of whom knows only a small portion of Liv’s full reality. The exception is Ted, an intimate partner whose drive to protect Liv is both noble and romantic. While the range of individual differentiation is admirable, each character is considerably underdeveloped with just not enough detail or background to make them come alive. For this reader, although the plot was brilliant, the characters remained flat on the page, never fully engaging me in their experiences. The second point of contention here was Goldin’s choice of structure. The timeline is all over the place, moving from past to present in both years and hours. It’s disconcerting and confusing, which, while a reflection of Liv’s mindset, caused me to have to continually flip back and forth to reread chapter headings in order to ascertain date and time. What I will give Goldin credit for is her incredible ability to build tension in her writing. In this, she is positively brilliant. One scene in the story takes Liv to an “art exhibition” that is so macabre in its presentation that it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. The level of detail and the choice of which details were chosen to share relative to the exhibit were nothing short of genius, and, in my opinion, the strengths of the book as a whole. Add to these a psychological element that will definitely have a physical effect on the reader, and the result is a roller coaster ride in the dark. Overall, I did inhale the pages and revel in the mood and tone Goldin so skillfully wrote into being. For that reason alone, this rates a solid 3. I anxiously await her next story! I would like to thank St. Martin’s Press and Net Galley for the opportunity to read and review this ARC. This is slated for publication on August 9, 2022. (l

Review: For Your Own Good

For Your Own Good by Samantha Downing
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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**spoiler alert** As a teacher, I’m always intrigued by novels set in an academic environment. The book blurb for this convinced me it was a must read. It wasn’t.

Teddy is a private school teacher, at the onset presented as an “odd bird”. He is introspective enough to realize he must maintain a specific persona at work (one of the consummate professional educator, working to better the lives of his students). On the other hand, he is a raging psychopath, navigating his own little world though a lens of misguided and narcissistic justifications conjured to assuage his periodic guilt. As he plods ahead, annihilating everyone in his path, his detached manner eventually becomes rather tedious. In fact, his lengthy reign as a self-identified judgy grim reaper is so clinical that it alienated me as a reader. We are told about most of the murders after the fact and without ever being witnesses to the events themselves. In lieu of taking the reader into the horror of Teddy’s actions, we are instead treated to myriad mundane details about Teddy’s idiosyncrasies: he drinks milk only out of bottles, he is overly attached to his “teacher of the year” plaque, and he maintains a quasi-lab in his basement where he cooks up all manner of poisons. The sometimes laser-like focus on Teddy’s self-absorbed quirks and motivations is ringed-around-the-edges with dark humor, but it’s not blatant enough to know if it’s intentional or just a cynical interpretation. 

Overall, a strange, detached read. 

Review: The Maidens

The Maidens by Alex Michaelides
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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Review

I was surprised to see this make it to the “best of” finalists in the mystery genre for 2021. Granted, it’s been a barren year in terms of blockbusters, but there are so many contenders more worthy of the honor. Alex Michaelides begins with a storyline created, it would appear, as a way to showcase his extensive knowledge of Greek tragedy through contrived allusions. Unfortunately, while he may be well-schooled re: the “classics” (by both the general and conventional definitions), he fails to transfer that to a plot that is either accessible or engaging. For those familiar with the Greek literature referenced, the book is monotonous and moves at a snail’s pace. For those without that background, the whole thing reads as an exercise in author arrogance. From Fosco to Mariana, Fred to Zoe, each character lays flat on the page, never emerging as personalities worthy of a read. They behave in ways that directly contradict the personas initially crafted, giving the reader little chance to become invested in any of them before they change direction. They also fumble about in ridiculous scenarios, clearly designed to be red herrings that, well….just aren’t. Anyone who has read myriad examples of the genre will have the murderer pegged in short shrift, making the entire book an exercise in futility.  In the end, I was left with the impression that the author had written what he had hoped to be a high brow mystery that ended up as little more than a dime store paperback. Was it the worst of the year? Certainly not. It was also far from even the mediocre.

Review: Quiet in Her Bones

Quiet in Her Bones by Nalini Singh
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Review

I found this gem to be among the best of 2021. Singh’s atmospheric writing simmers, never truly reaching a boil, but instead treating the reader to myriad sensory details that gently and sensually breath into one’s psyche.  The plot is fairly straightforward. Aarav is the product of two Indian parents, currently living in the lap of luxury in New Zealand. When we meet him, his mother, Nina, has been gone for ten years, though it’s a mystery to everyone whether she absconded with a quarter million of her husband’s money or disappeared involuntarily due to the nefarious actions of….well, someone. When she is then found, in the clothes in which she disappeared, nestled in her emerald green Jaguar less than a mile from her home, she has been reduced to a skeleton—and a homicide victim. The book weaves through introductions to each of those living in the cul-de-sac Aarav calls home. He pokes at his memories of the night Nina disappeared and recalls her complicated relationship with each neighbor, as he simultaneously battles a leg injury—the result of an accident that has left him muddled and confused. Aarav’s own relationship with his mother is also examined as he remembers it, complete with vivid images of her as she laughs, smiles and dances her way through his memories. The unreliable narrator is clearly an issue for the reader, as one attempts to separate fact from fiction when it seems as if Aarav himself is unable to do so. The genius here is the way in which Singh crawls into Aarav’s mind and explores the world through a misty lens that leaves the reader off-balance and unsure. It’s an almost poetic read. If you’re looking for a barn burner with action and suspense, this is not the best choice. If, however, you are willing to follow Singh through Aarav’s journey, you will be rewarded with top notch writing that tickles the senses and challenges one’s sensibilities.

Review: PANIK

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

Well folks, here it is—the first read of 2020 to grace the “OMG Bad” list. It is an honor richly deserved. This is one of those books where the author tried entirely too hard to be intellectual and clever and instead comes off as nothing more than a novice with a pen. Take, for example, the juxtaposition of the names of two of the therapists—Godly and Fersatan. Really? That’s just lazy, not to mention wrong on so many levels. And that’s just the beginning of the writing that had me rolling my eyes so far it hurt. I could write a dissertation about why this piece should have gone straight to the trash, but it just doesn’t warrant one more minute of my time. Seriously. Find something else.

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Review: The Silence

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

Another case of a bridge too far, this is a decent book that could have been great but for the heavy-handed prose. Pearce takes a straight forward story that builds suspense and turns it on its ear, drowning in self-indulgent writing that takes itself far too seriously. Characters spend too much time opining in paragraph after paragraph of over-written narrative.

“I study him. He has a day’s worth of stubble peppering his jaw, shocks of grey in his hair. We’ve been together just two months and are still at the stage of our relationship when we want to devour each other, sinking our teeth into each other’s names, the details, the rich smell of him in the crook of his neck. Perhaps that’s why I can’t tell him where the money went. Perhaps that’s why the lie slips from my mouth like ribbon being pulled from between my lips. ‘I don’t”

Beyond just the morose text that drips like thick, wet seaweed from the page (what can I tell you—it must be contagious), there is just no great mystery here as to what is simmering between the lines. The gathering suspense isn’t the result of some tremendous secret suddenly revealed, as even the least astute of readers will see through the gaslighting and wonder why Stella, the main character, is so ridiculously naive.

Clearly, Pearce is a talented author, able to create incredible tone that resonates and builds. She is just in desperate need of an editor to reel her in when she gets lost in melodrama that steals the spotlight and disengages the reader.

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