Dear Mr. Edwards,
I am once again writing you a letter to express my feelings about your latest novel. Could you do it again? Could you succeed yet another time after your last two stunning wins? YES, YOU DID IT AGAIN, Mr. Edwards! You have now for the third time turned me into a paranoid, obsessive-compulsive with a totally messed up mind! Do you get a kick out of doing this to people? I have to think you do…
Can’t you just write a straightforward story, Mr. Edwards? Apparently you are not capable of that. You insist on throwing out a premise that immediately starts to niggle at us, then once you have our attention, you start dropping little clues (or little “not clues”) in an annoyingly incessant fashion. Are these millions of mini attention grabbers actual breadcrumbs or are they fake? And the suspense! Good grief. Unrelenting. So add nervous wreck to my condition. It got to the point where I felt like a pinball in a pinball machine. Bounced around all over the place—not knowing where the hell I was or where I was going. I had no peace at all while reading this book, not even for a minute.
Whew. And you know, you are getting pretty cocky, Mr. Edwards. You throw out only a few characters in this little tale. Trying to make it easy for us to guess the baddies, right? More like making us THINK we can guess them correctly. Actually, Mister, I figured out the baddies (kind of) early on, only to have you arrogantly throw a wrench in my thoughts and make me change my mind at 92%. To the wrong answer!! That was mean…
Not only that, you rubbed my face in it, Mr. Showoff. I was trying to make myself feel better by knowing that at least at one point I knew who the baddies were before you made me change my mind; but then you wrote that epilogue that told me that even though I had them figured out (temporarily), my thinking was aaaaallllll wrong! In other words, I made nothing more than a lucky guess. How mortifying!! You are a cruel man, Mr. Edwards, a cruel, cruel man.
So here I am, a broken woman. I was so confident I knew your style, that I would beat you this time. But noooooo, I am a total failure. But, I’m warning you, Mister Thriller Writer, I’m not taking it anymore. Next time I’M going to win. So go on, get back into that little office of yours, get out your typewriter, and write me your best stuff. I will be fully recovered in about a year, and I’ll be waiting.
Still your fan (though hating to admit it),
Love,
Christine XO
Many thanks to Net Galley and Thomas and Mercer for an ARC of this novel. The opinions expressed in my review are unbiased and totally mine.