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3.31 AVERAGE
3.31 AVERAGE
[2.5 stars rounded down]
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc of this book!
I'm pretty bummed this one didn't wholly work for me; the premise sounds exactly up my alley.
Where Pochoda shines here is in the writing; some of it is overtly purple, but she expertly crafts a gritty, sweaty, hot atmosphere that aids the story so well. I also enjoyed some of the conversation surrounding inherent violence or whether or not there's a moment in someone's life that triggers violence. I thought that was interesting, especially in discussion with what it means to be feminine and violent.
The characters were okay. We spend the most time with Florida, so she felt the most developed. Some of her thoughts and actions were a bit repetitive, but isn't that the case with feeling like you're stuck in a loop you can't get out of?
I wish Dios had a lot more characterization. She felt like this shadowy boogeyman, a catalyst for Florida just to act as a catalyst. While this is pretty common in the noir genre, I do wish that there had been more characterization with her.
Kace is probably the most interesting character, acting as a Greek chorus personified.
I really didn't care about Lobos, the detective. With the book being set in 2020 and the conversation of police brutality and protests sort of buzzing in the background, I just didn't care about her thoughts or history. I think she could have been an interesting character, discussing the violence of her job, but...she just felt a little flat and a little like we were ignoring the whole conversation on police brutality.
I do think the book was a bit too long. It felt like a novella length tight concept and storyline that had been packed with extra fluff, most of which was Florida running. It could have been cut by at least 50 pages, and the story probably would have been better off for it.
A mixed bag. The writing and atmosphere were so good, but the characterization and certain plot elements fell a little flat. Obviously Pochoda is a great writer, and I'll continue to check out her work, but this is not my favorite noir/literary western that I've read.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc of this book!
I'm pretty bummed this one didn't wholly work for me; the premise sounds exactly up my alley.
Where Pochoda shines here is in the writing; some of it is overtly purple, but she expertly crafts a gritty, sweaty, hot atmosphere that aids the story so well. I also enjoyed some of the conversation surrounding inherent violence or whether or not there's a moment in someone's life that triggers violence. I thought that was interesting, especially in discussion with what it means to be feminine and violent.
The characters were okay. We spend the most time with Florida, so she felt the most developed. Some of her thoughts and actions were a bit repetitive, but isn't that the case with feeling like you're stuck in a loop you can't get out of?
I wish Dios had a lot more characterization. She felt like this shadowy boogeyman, a catalyst for Florida just to act as a catalyst. While this is pretty common in the noir genre, I do wish that there had been more characterization with her.
Kace is probably the most interesting character, acting as a Greek chorus personified.
I really didn't care about Lobos, the detective. With the book being set in 2020 and the conversation of police brutality and protests sort of buzzing in the background, I just didn't care about her thoughts or history. I think she could have been an interesting character, discussing the violence of her job, but...she just felt a little flat and a little like we were ignoring the whole conversation on police brutality.
I do think the book was a bit too long. It felt like a novella length tight concept and storyline that had been packed with extra fluff, most of which was Florida running. It could have been cut by at least 50 pages, and the story probably would have been better off for it.
A mixed bag. The writing and atmosphere were so good, but the characterization and certain plot elements fell a little flat. Obviously Pochoda is a great writer, and I'll continue to check out her work, but this is not my favorite noir/literary western that I've read.
Oh, what highs! But then, oh, what lows.
This book has a split personality. The first half is full of splendid storytelling told either from the POV of a woman named Kace or in first-person prescient (which is a little-used narrative POV but one of my favorites). This first half, which takes place in the present day but reads like it takes place in the Old West, starts inside a women’s prison in Arizona with the stories of Florida and Dios, two of the prison’s inmates. It’s the time of COVID, and as much as no one likes the idea of being locked up, being locked up during a pandemic is putting them all even more on edge than usual. The prose is spellbinding, the plot relevant, and the social commentary compelling. I found myself sinking into the book, caught up in this cat and mouse game Dios is playing with Florida, trying to get Florida to admit she’s just the same as Dios and just as angry and violent as her, too. Dios wants to bring Florida down to her level, and she’s not beyond breaking a whole lot of laws in the process. Dios has an obsession, and Florida is it. Florida has an obsession too: getting to Los Angeles and back to her mother’s home to pick up her car and personal belongings before then driving back to Arizona before her first check-in with her parole officer.
I could’ve read that book–this book–just the way it is for the entire novel. Just Dios and Florida playing cat and mouse, catch and release, all over hill and dale as Florida tries to get to her car and Dios keeps dragging her down, down, down and then see how it ends.
But then there had to be part two. And that’s where this book lost me completely.
Up until this point there had been three POV’s: Florida, Kace, and Dios. In part two, all of a sudden, Dios’ POV disappears almost entirely and in its place is the POV of Lobos, a female cop that’s been assigned the case of Florida and Dios since they violated parole and a violent crime was committed during the act. But who committed the act? Was it both of them? One of them? Why was this guy killed anyway?
Like Florida, Dios, and Kace, Lobos has her own damage. Lobos even has a sexist partner that made me grind my teeth. It was established from the beginning that this book was largely about how the system victimizes females no matter their age, race, mental health, socioeconomic background, or line of work and then doesn’t think we have either the right or ability to get angry or violent and to do something about it. Taking it even further, if we dare try and do something about it, we’re somehow less than human to society. Bringing a cop who has a lot of her own issues surrounding anger towards men due to being abused by her husband into the story halfway through and practically letting her take over half of the narrative was not only jarring for the whole plot, but it was upsetting in general because we lost the strong narrative voice of Dios so this cop could amble around Los Angeles investigating the duo and jumping at shadows thinking her husband is around every corner.
Had Pochoda chosen to keep the story contained to Florida, Dios, and Kace, I believe this would’ve been a truly great novel. Her choice to split it down the middle like she did made it mediocre.
I was provided a copy of this title by NetGalley and the author. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. Owing to personal policy, all reviews rated three stars or under are not posted to social media or bookseller websites. Thank you.
This book has a split personality. The first half is full of splendid storytelling told either from the POV of a woman named Kace or in first-person prescient (which is a little-used narrative POV but one of my favorites). This first half, which takes place in the present day but reads like it takes place in the Old West, starts inside a women’s prison in Arizona with the stories of Florida and Dios, two of the prison’s inmates. It’s the time of COVID, and as much as no one likes the idea of being locked up, being locked up during a pandemic is putting them all even more on edge than usual. The prose is spellbinding, the plot relevant, and the social commentary compelling. I found myself sinking into the book, caught up in this cat and mouse game Dios is playing with Florida, trying to get Florida to admit she’s just the same as Dios and just as angry and violent as her, too. Dios wants to bring Florida down to her level, and she’s not beyond breaking a whole lot of laws in the process. Dios has an obsession, and Florida is it. Florida has an obsession too: getting to Los Angeles and back to her mother’s home to pick up her car and personal belongings before then driving back to Arizona before her first check-in with her parole officer.
I could’ve read that book–this book–just the way it is for the entire novel. Just Dios and Florida playing cat and mouse, catch and release, all over hill and dale as Florida tries to get to her car and Dios keeps dragging her down, down, down and then see how it ends.
But then there had to be part two. And that’s where this book lost me completely.
Up until this point there had been three POV’s: Florida, Kace, and Dios. In part two, all of a sudden, Dios’ POV disappears almost entirely and in its place is the POV of Lobos, a female cop that’s been assigned the case of Florida and Dios since they violated parole and a violent crime was committed during the act. But who committed the act? Was it both of them? One of them? Why was this guy killed anyway?
Like Florida, Dios, and Kace, Lobos has her own damage. Lobos even has a sexist partner that made me grind my teeth. It was established from the beginning that this book was largely about how the system victimizes females no matter their age, race, mental health, socioeconomic background, or line of work and then doesn’t think we have either the right or ability to get angry or violent and to do something about it. Taking it even further, if we dare try and do something about it, we’re somehow less than human to society. Bringing a cop who has a lot of her own issues surrounding anger towards men due to being abused by her husband into the story halfway through and practically letting her take over half of the narrative was not only jarring for the whole plot, but it was upsetting in general because we lost the strong narrative voice of Dios so this cop could amble around Los Angeles investigating the duo and jumping at shadows thinking her husband is around every corner.
Had Pochoda chosen to keep the story contained to Florida, Dios, and Kace, I believe this would’ve been a truly great novel. Her choice to split it down the middle like she did made it mediocre.
I was provided a copy of this title by NetGalley and the author. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. Owing to personal policy, all reviews rated three stars or under are not posted to social media or bookseller websites. Thank you.
challenging
funny
"Let me tell you- inside we all rage the same. It’s how we let it out that differs.”
Definitely a case of this one just isn't for me. The story felt disjointed. I never understood why we were given glimpses into each woman's mind. I don't think violence is a surprise. Are we surprised women can be violent too? The world is an ugly place and too many get lost in the shadows and slip between the cracks. This book seemed to take that point and constantly shove it in your face. I was surprised by the depth of darkness but I soon found Dios and Florida's voices hard to distinguish.
I think this might have worked for me as an audio book. It sounds like the audiobook has a full cast and I think that would probably be amazing.
A huge thank you to the author and publisher for providing an e-ARC via Netgalley. This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.
Definitely a case of this one just isn't for me. The story felt disjointed. I never understood why we were given glimpses into each woman's mind. I don't think violence is a surprise. Are we surprised women can be violent too? The world is an ugly place and too many get lost in the shadows and slip between the cracks. This book seemed to take that point and constantly shove it in your face. I was surprised by the depth of darkness but I soon found Dios and Florida's voices hard to distinguish.
I think this might have worked for me as an audio book. It sounds like the audiobook has a full cast and I think that would probably be amazing.
A huge thank you to the author and publisher for providing an e-ARC via Netgalley. This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.
adventurous
emotional
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
dark
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
sad
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Violence