Stephen King for teenagers: I love it! S.A. Bodeen leads her protagonist, seventeen-year-old Livvy Flynn, into areas not explored by Stephen King's Misery, though the action isn't as graphic as that earlier novel. There are places a book for kids hesitates to go, and while The Detour briefly recognizes these horrors in its upfront acknowledgement of Stephen King's classic, there are lines it won't cross in introducing adolescents to macabre literature. Instead, the terror is shrouded in layers of enigma as the nightmare of any celebrity comes to life through Livvy, who is trying to gain traction in her situation by figuring out why she's there and what her tormentors plan on doing to her. The hours stretch on interminably when you have no idea when or if your suffering will end.
It's the sight of Flute Girl playing her instrument on the roadside that causes Livvy's car accident. She's on her way to an author retreat, ready to patiently listen to and critique the ideas of aspiring novelists if it means collecting her typical exorbitant fee. Livvy hit the jackpot with the first volume of her own trilogy at age fifteen, scoring a six-figure payday and ascending to a level of stardom not many YA authors experience. The second and third books also sold for princely sums, and now Livvy is biding time before her newest release and the start of college, raking in extra cash by attending writing retreats like the one she's on her way to now. Unfortunately, this time she never arrives. Swerving to avoid Flute Girl, Livvy's car capsizes, rolling over and dislocating her shoulder. The next thing she knows, she's lying down in a white-walled basement room, her injured shoulder a fiery mass of pain. A woman on the young side of middle age stands over her, with little compassion in her bedside manner. She and her daughter, Flute Girl, went to great effort yanking Livvy from her crashed vehicle and bringing her to their house, but Livvy is confused: why isn't she in a hospital? Why haven't her injuries been treated? When it dawns on her that emergency services haven't been notified of her accident, Livvy panics, but the woman isn't about to release her. Livvy is trapped here, almost incapacitated by the agony of her dislocated shoulder, and no one but her abductors knows she was even in an accident.
There's a reason she's detaining Livvy, the woman hints, but she isn't telling what it is. Livvy has to figure that out on her own. But as Livvy rigs a makeshift sling for her damaged shoulder and familiarizes herself with the basement's layout, she discovers that more serious threats lurk. Contemptuously as the woman treats her, Flute Girl's inexplicable hatred for Livvy is more raw and frightening. What will the weirdly maladjusted girl do if left alone with her? Livvy is desperate to escape, but that could be worse than staying put if she falls into Flute Girl's clutches in her injured and nearly helpless state. There are scarier dangers than even Flute Girl, however. A leering hulk of a man peers at Livvy through the high basement window now and then, startling her with his abrupt appearances. He tries to get at her in the basement to do who knows what, slamming his body into the padlocked door that Livvy now regards almost as a blessing, yelling crazily at her where she lies huddled in a cocoon of anxiety. If this guy gets inside, he'll damage Livvy beyond what any expensive therapy can do to heal her.
"What's the saying? You spend your entire adulthood trying to recover from your childhood?
I didn't know if that was true, but some days it seemed like it made sense."
—The Detour, P. 73
As the suspense rises and Livvy looks to spring herself from the basement dungeon without running into Flute Girl or the man from the window, she has time to reflect on her life. Her childhood was one long, drawn-out victimization, the other students falling into a pattern of bullying her in kindergarten which persisted through elementary and middle school. Livvy was smart, pretty enough, dressed fashionably, and her family had lots of money, but the other kids targeted her early and never stopped. Self-harm became her coping mechanism in fifth grade, and that's what eventually tipped her parents off that their daughter wasn't adapting in school. Livvy grew up damaged, senselessly marked a pariah by her peers, but she's come far the past several years, and her worldwide acclaim as an author has been as effective a confidence booster as anything could be. Now her dire circumstances threaten to undo Livvy's psychological improvement, and her window of escape is rapidly sliding shut. She has to get out of here soon, but what if her only option is to use lethal force against her captors? If spilled blood is the price of freedom, can she bring herself to maim or kill? Livvy's captivity isn't going to end happily for someone, that much is obvious. Who will turn out to be the most tragic victim of the scenario?
The flashback scenes of Livvy's childhood, which account for a significant portion of The Detour, are fast-paced and compelling. The unfairness feels authentic, raising the reader's hackles against Livvy's mean-spirited classmates, young as they are. Why would anyone treat a person the way they treat Livvy? Because they're bored and don't understand the harm they're inflicting? The bullying that Livvy endured was baseless, but that's how it usually is when a kid is singled out for harassment over a period of years. The Detour would not be effective without these flashbacks, which allow us to see Livvy as more than a smug teen looking down on those who haven't enjoyed immediate success as a writer. She was born into wealth, too, so her privilege extended from birth. The bullying gives us eyes to sympathize with Livvy, to see her as a harangued young girl who has shown courage in overcoming emotional obstacles. That's why when the situation reaches critical mass and we know something awful is about to happen that can never be taken back, we're desperate for Livvy to survive. She's withstood so much to not make it now.
Extreme coincidence is a heavy burden on this book, but it carries the weight gamely without drawing too much attention to it. The suspense builds well, and there's little to no objectionable language, so The Detour may even be appropriate for some younger kids. I like the reference to Goodreads.com on page one hundred ninety-eight; it's a meta moment for me, since I'm typing this review on Goodreads. I doubt The Detour will ever be as popular as Misery, but it's a competent YA thriller with a few chilling moments. It will make you question and think, and that's a good day for any book.