I have come to realize that if a book's jacket is covered in praise from authors but not a single critic, it's a bad sign. I was hoping Still Missing would be an exception since it has a high rating from readers here on Goodreads, but no suck luck.
The biggest problem is that Chevy Stevens is simply not a very good writer. I was only a few pages into the book when I came across this clunker: "Mom may be small, barely five feet, but I was the one always faling short." (Sigh.) It just got worse and worse, all the way to its utterly RIDICULOUS twist ending. The author has never met a comma splice or a bad cliché she didn't like -- And how's this for character insight: "I was willing to bet she rinses out her pantyhose every night and always wears a full support bra." What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!?!
I really did not like the setup of the narrative being told in sessions to the therapist. Stevens is simply not skilled enough to pull off this trick; there were even times when present and past tenses were used incorrectly. Also, the way she made post-abduction Annie display her trauma was with forced bad-assness. Every time Annie made some “I’m such a bitch” comment to “Doc” I pictured Sandy at the end of Grease pretending soooo hard to be cool in her leather jacket. To prove how damaged Annie was, every other word became “hell” or “damn” in some lame attempt to make the reader think, “Ooh, she’s been through so much; now she’s tough and standoffish.” All it made me think was, “Who knew being kidnapped and held captive could turn you into Avril Lavigne circa 2002?”
Oh, and let's not forget that author must have been absent on the first day of Creative Writing 101 when irony was discussed. Good lord. When The Freak gives Annie the book about natural pregnancy, she couldn't just leave it alone; she had to beat the reader over the head with "Yeah, that was The Freak, because, you know, abducting a woman, locking her in a cabin, and raping her is real natural." That's just plain insulting as a reader - we GET the irony; you don't have to spell it out for us. Same thing with the "I like cats" scene.
(While we're on that subject, let's not forget the masterful line "Luck was my whole damn marketing campaign. Now, that's irony for you." Um, no, actually that ISN'T ironic. But thanks for playing, Alanis!)
And can I just say for the record that if I read the word "Freak" one more time I was going to scream? Annie calls her kidnapper "The Freak," which... Ok, whatever. But then she has to use the term about five times per page, and even throws in "freaky freak" and "friend of freak" and "a freak like The Freak," and "Freak freak freak freak freak freak," and OHMYGOD someone please make it stop!!!
Then we come to the ever-so-complex character of Luke. Seriously? Handsome, supportive, good cook, loves his dog, so damn perfect that he apologizes for being too nice? I bet he turns water into wine and can make a tiny amount of oil last for 8 nights, too. I laughed my ass off when Annie hugged him and the smell of restaurant clung to him: “oregano, baked bread, garlic. He smelled like long dinners with friends, like too much wine and laughter, like happiness.” HAHA! Have you ever smelled someone who has been working in a restaurant – any kind of restaurant - all day? They smell like a big greasy onion ring and nothing else.
All right -- one last complaint before I return this crapfest to the library: As SOON as Gary was introduced in his nice suit I knew she was going to sleep with him. So corny and predictable, not to mention a horrible thing for a cop in his position to do!
I actually think this book has the PERFECT balance of mawkishness and suspense to be made into a Lifetime movie. Woman in peril? Check. Sex scene with inappropriate but hot guy? Check. Betrayed by family member? Check. Dead baby? BONUS POINTS! It would have to be a lesser Lifetime movie, though – No big Sunday night premiere and probably some unknown soap opera actress in the lead role. This story just isn’t highbrow enough for a big name star like Jennifer Love Hewitt. (For the record: THAT’s irony.)