Every once in a while when I go the library I pick up a book by a new author I’m unfamiliar with, especially when they have many novels under their belt. This time I decided to give Margaret Maron a shot.
I found the book pretty quick moving. But that was about it. Have I read worse books? Absolutely.
Are there worse writers out there? Definitely. But ‘Winter’s Child’ just never quite pulled me in. I found it draggy and was really an effort to get through.
There were several areas of concern I had.
ONE: When John McClane kills all the terrorists in Nakatomi Plaza, we go with it cause…well, it’s a movie. When Rambo kills 54 Vietnamese in the jungles we go with it cause…well, it’s a movie. We expect more in a book. More realism. Yes, an author can take poetic license. Nothing wrong with that. But there were 2 parts of this book that, to me, were far beyond poetic license. It made the story not believable.
***spoiler***
Dwight’s ex-wife, Jonna, is killed. She is found dead in a junkyard. The police scour her house for prints and DNA and come up with nothing. Yet, just 2 days later, they allow Dwight and his wife, Deborah, to stay in the house! WHAT??? Granted, the ex-wife wasn’t killed on the premises. But would any police force allow anyone—especially the ex-husband who is always the first they look at—to stay IN the home of a dead woman 24 hours after she is found? Of course not. Silly.
Deborah is preparing to sleep on the pull-out sofa. As she pulls it out, she sees strands of dark hair. Black hair. The dead woman was blonde. Obviously, it seems like the dead woman had someone sleep on the pull-out bed, right? And what does Deborah do? She says, “Hmm…” and then proceeds to wash the sheets! WHAT??? DNA!!! Duhhh!!! And this woman is a judge!!! Not believable. Silly.
Lastly, the dead woman and son, Cal, who is now missing, has a dog. A terrier. Dwight, a former police detective in Washington DC tells the dog, Bandit, “Go find Cal!” He opens the door and lets the dog runs out. Everyone knows that not all dogs can track people. Well, everyone, apparently, except the author. Silly. Not believable.
TWO: Characters. I should have known when the first thing in the book is a family tree. The book takes place in 2 different small towns in North Carolina. It eventually became VERY confusing. It seemed like everyone was related to someone else. This person is that person’s second cousin twice removed. This one if the ex-wife of the niece of the uncle who married the step-brother of so-and-so. You get the idea. What added to the confusion was that certain names can be applied to both men and women and it was hard to keep track of. There’s someone named Portland (woman), Terry (not sure if it was male or female), someone’s last name is Richards who was female and “Rae” which normally can be a woman’s name. Yet, was short for Raeford.
THEEE: The main character, Deborah and her husband Dwight are, I believe, in their early 40’s. However, they use words and dialogue that are more apt to people much older. I’m older than the Deborah and Dwight. Yet, they used words like my grandmother would. For example, in one scene, Dwight becomes irate, incensed. His child has gone missing and he finds out that some woman has been lying to him, misleading him, putting his son’s life in grave danger. He’s upset, he’s furious, he’s angry. And what does he say to this double-crosser? “Where the frick is my son?” Now, really? I know some people are offended by cursing in a book. But sometimes, it is necessary to make the story believable. Think Mel Gibson in Ransom. If you were Dwight, you’d say, “Where the f*** is my son?” “Where’s my GD son?” Even “Where the hell is my son?” Where the frick???
FOUR I am a man and I don’t want to sound sexist. But it seemed to me that Ms. Maron clearly gears her books to females. Two of my favorite authors—Tess Gerritsen and Lisa Scottoline—are females. But their books, writing style and characters appeal to both men and women. As a man, I thought the description was over the top. Every time a woman walked into a room we got a paragraph or two detailing how they were dressed. Every time one of the main characters walked into a room, we were told abundant details of furniture, frilly coverlets, lacey blankets and the type of drapes. As a guy I just wanted to move the story along.
FIVE: In one scene, two detectives come under sniper fire from across the street. Pedestrians are out walking around when gunfire erupts. One person shot. Another person shot. The detectives would obviously scream, “Get down! Get Down!” But no. They shouted something like “We are the police! Hide! Go back inside! Take cover!” Too many words. In the heat of battle, by the time they get all of that out, more innocents would be gunned down.
SIX: This may sound petty but here goes. I am a dog lover. Big time dog lover. The dogin this book is named Bandit. He’s a Terrier though the author never tells us what breed. Be that as it may, the dog was the pet of the son now missing, Cal, and his mother, now dead. The dog stays in the home where Dwight and Deborah are now staying. What bothered me, as a dog lover, was the fact that the poor dog was constantly locked in crate. The dog was let into the backyard to pee. Then rushed back inside and locked back up in the crate. No reason for that. Even when Dwight and Deborah were having lunch, the dog was put back in the crate so they wouldn’t see the dog ‘begging.’ For someone who is a big time animal lover, this made me pretty much dislike the main characters.
So, I gave Margaret Maron a shot. Will I ever read more of her books? Well, perhaps, in a year or two I may try another one. But honestly, I am in no hurry and I doubt it