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A review by jhscolloquium
All the Dangerous Things by Stacy Willingham
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
The inspiration for All the Dangerous Things was an idea that came to author Stacy Willingham one day. "What would it feel like to be trapped inside the mind of a sleep-deprived mother who, deep down, believed that the disappearance of her child was somehow her fault?" Not yet a mother herself, Willingham says she pondered why a mother would feel that way until she realized that women and, in particular, mothers, "are conditioned from birth to feel guilty about something. We always think things are our fault. We always feel the need to apologize: for being too much or too little. Too loud or too quiet. Too driven or too content. For wanting children more than anything or for not even wanting them all." Willingham confesses that she was afraid to pen a book focused on motherhood, so she did a lot of research on the subject. And was dismayed to discover that many women don't express their emotions because of the guilt they feel about experiencing them. Which is actually tragic because their emotions are largely universal. "We feel completely alone in an experience that's shared by so many," Willingham observes, which propelled her to create the variety of female characters featured in All the Dangerous Things who are "flawed, complicated, messy . . ."
In a compelling first-person narrative, Isabelle Drake reveals at the outset of the story that her life changed exactly one year ago when her son, Mason, was kidnapped. And -- unimaginably -- during that year, she has not had "a single night of rest." Despite trying sleeping pills, eye drops, caffeine, and therapy, Isabelle is only able to "microsleep" for two to twenty seconds at a time, so she has been "stumbling through life in a semiconscious dream state" for a full three hundred and sixty-four days. Nonetheless, she is still "no closer to the truth." She is a wreck -- physically and mentally.
Although it is emotionally draining for her, Isabelle travels to true crime conferences and conventions at which she speaks about Mason's unsolved case. She does it because she hopes that an audience member might be able to shed light on Mason's whereabouts and, in exchange for her participation, is provided a list of the attendees' names and addresses. When she returns home, she studies those lists and researches the backgrounds of her audience members in search of even the most attenuated clues.
Willingham also performed extensive research on sleepwalking and found that about one-third of children sleepwalk at some point during their childhood. And about two percent of them continue doing so in adulthood. Isabelle explains that she has always been a heavy sleeper and, as a child, sleepwalked from time to time. Now, suffering from severe insomnia, she recalls moments from her childhood for which she lacks a cogent explanation. She grew up in a house near a marsh, and there were nights when she woke up disoriented, confused. Inexplicably, there were muddy footprints on the carpet. Her younger sister, Margaret, mysteriously drowned in the marsh one night. Mason's stuffed dinosaur was found on the banks of the marsh near their home. Isabelle is haunted by the "similarities between then and now" and "the icy silence from my parents that never seems to melt." (She is virtually estranged from her parents, although they do send her checks that she is loath to cash, even though she needs the money to cover her living expenses so that she can keep searching for Mason.) The detective assigned to the case has always made her uncomfortable because, of course, when Mason went missing, both she and her husband, Ben, immediately came and have remained under suspicion.
Unlike Isabelle, Ben quickly moved on with his life after Mason disappeared. He bought a condominium near his office, leaving Isabelle in the house they shared, and is in a new romantic relationship. Isabelle describes how they met, worked together after Ben hired her, and married quickly after his first wife's tragic suicide. She details their journey to parenthood, and how their marriage began falling apart before Mason was born, and collapsed fully under the strain of Mason's kidnapping.
She meets Waylon Spencer on a flight home from a conference at which she again related her story. He explains that his popular podcast led to the closure of a cold case and, despite her misgivings, she contacts him later and agrees to grant him access to all the information she has amassed about Mason's case . . . and her life. As he interviews her for the podcast and his inquiries grow increasingly intrusive and accusatory, Isabelle grows increasingly suspicious of Waylon and his motives. Is he really an ally?
The centerpiece of the story is Isabelle's fear that she may have harmed her own child. After all, one of her neighbors insists that he observed her walking past his house in the middle of the night, but she has no recollection of doing so. She reviews every moment of the video footage from the baby monitor in Mason's room to see if she entered his room during the night while he was sleeping but was eft with no memory of doing so. She believed her sleepwalking stopped when she was in college. But has she continued to sleepwalk, right up to the night Mason was taken? She doubts herself even to the point of pondering whether she might be capable of homicidal sleepwalking, an exceedingly rare, but scientifically documented phenomenon. Her therapist explains that it is possible for sleepwalkers to do "terrible things, that they would never do if they were awake. They can't differentiate between right and wrong" because the upper frontal lobe of the brain is asleep during sleepwalking.
Willingham deftly portrays a woman terrified by the possibility that she lost control over her own behavior to the point that she harmed her own child. She loved Mason more than anything, and cannot really conceive that she could be capable of such a heinous act. She is desperate to find any other plausible explanation, any scrap of evidence that will lead her to answers and, hopefully, her son -- alive and well. But her guilt is not so limited. Because she is his mother and it was her job to protect Mason, and she feels the judgment of everyone in her life, as well as many of those strangers who listen to her relate the story at those conferences and conventions. After all, Mason's bedroom window was open; the batteries in the baby monitor were dead. She also feels guilt about her feelings prior to Mason's kidnapping. Being a full-time mother can be an isolating and disappointing experience, especially for a woman who had a successful career as a journalist an misses working and having a social life, as well as a husband who found her interesting and desirable. And there is the strain of being constantly and relentlessly needed and depended upon by your child. It is fear, guilt, and ruminating about the past that keep Isabelle from sleeping, and she knows time is running out because human beings cannot survive without sleep indefinitely. She is conscious of the fact that she is becoming increasingly paranoid, and unable to discern what is real from what she imagines.
All the Dangerous Things is a tautly-crafted, tense, and absorbing mystery that is, at times, difficult to read. Because as Willingham examines her protagonist's deepest fears, Isabelle is relatable and empathetic. After all, the idea of being so out of control and beyond one's moral boundaries that one could be capable of committing unspeakable acts is horrifying and terrifying. Isabelle's angst and self-doubt are palpable and affecting, even as Willingham inspires readers to view her with suspicion while injecting clues to Mason's whereabouts at expertly-timed intervals. Isabelle is surrounded by other female characters who are empathetic and compelling, especially Isabelle's mother whose story Willingham unravels compassionately. The mystery around which Isabelle's misery revolves is plausibly constructed, and the conclusion shocking. All the Dangerous Things is almost suffocatingly atmospheric, which heightens the dramatic tension. It is engrossing, solidly entertaining, and ideal for readers who enjoy slow burning mysteries.
Thanks to NetGalley for an Advance Reader's Copy of the book.
In a compelling first-person narrative, Isabelle Drake reveals at the outset of the story that her life changed exactly one year ago when her son, Mason, was kidnapped. And -- unimaginably -- during that year, she has not had "a single night of rest." Despite trying sleeping pills, eye drops, caffeine, and therapy, Isabelle is only able to "microsleep" for two to twenty seconds at a time, so she has been "stumbling through life in a semiconscious dream state" for a full three hundred and sixty-four days. Nonetheless, she is still "no closer to the truth." She is a wreck -- physically and mentally.
Although it is emotionally draining for her, Isabelle travels to true crime conferences and conventions at which she speaks about Mason's unsolved case. She does it because she hopes that an audience member might be able to shed light on Mason's whereabouts and, in exchange for her participation, is provided a list of the attendees' names and addresses. When she returns home, she studies those lists and researches the backgrounds of her audience members in search of even the most attenuated clues.
Willingham also performed extensive research on sleepwalking and found that about one-third of children sleepwalk at some point during their childhood. And about two percent of them continue doing so in adulthood. Isabelle explains that she has always been a heavy sleeper and, as a child, sleepwalked from time to time. Now, suffering from severe insomnia, she recalls moments from her childhood for which she lacks a cogent explanation. She grew up in a house near a marsh, and there were nights when she woke up disoriented, confused. Inexplicably, there were muddy footprints on the carpet. Her younger sister, Margaret, mysteriously drowned in the marsh one night. Mason's stuffed dinosaur was found on the banks of the marsh near their home. Isabelle is haunted by the "similarities between then and now" and "the icy silence from my parents that never seems to melt." (She is virtually estranged from her parents, although they do send her checks that she is loath to cash, even though she needs the money to cover her living expenses so that she can keep searching for Mason.) The detective assigned to the case has always made her uncomfortable because, of course, when Mason went missing, both she and her husband, Ben, immediately came and have remained under suspicion.
Unlike Isabelle, Ben quickly moved on with his life after Mason disappeared. He bought a condominium near his office, leaving Isabelle in the house they shared, and is in a new romantic relationship. Isabelle describes how they met, worked together after Ben hired her, and married quickly after his first wife's tragic suicide. She details their journey to parenthood, and how their marriage began falling apart before Mason was born, and collapsed fully under the strain of Mason's kidnapping.
She meets Waylon Spencer on a flight home from a conference at which she again related her story. He explains that his popular podcast led to the closure of a cold case and, despite her misgivings, she contacts him later and agrees to grant him access to all the information she has amassed about Mason's case . . . and her life. As he interviews her for the podcast and his inquiries grow increasingly intrusive and accusatory, Isabelle grows increasingly suspicious of Waylon and his motives. Is he really an ally?
The centerpiece of the story is Isabelle's fear that she may have harmed her own child. After all, one of her neighbors insists that he observed her walking past his house in the middle of the night, but she has no recollection of doing so. She reviews every moment of the video footage from the baby monitor in Mason's room to see if she entered his room during the night while he was sleeping but was eft with no memory of doing so. She believed her sleepwalking stopped when she was in college. But has she continued to sleepwalk, right up to the night Mason was taken? She doubts herself even to the point of pondering whether she might be capable of homicidal sleepwalking, an exceedingly rare, but scientifically documented phenomenon. Her therapist explains that it is possible for sleepwalkers to do "terrible things, that they would never do if they were awake. They can't differentiate between right and wrong" because the upper frontal lobe of the brain is asleep during sleepwalking.
Willingham deftly portrays a woman terrified by the possibility that she lost control over her own behavior to the point that she harmed her own child. She loved Mason more than anything, and cannot really conceive that she could be capable of such a heinous act. She is desperate to find any other plausible explanation, any scrap of evidence that will lead her to answers and, hopefully, her son -- alive and well. But her guilt is not so limited. Because she is his mother and it was her job to protect Mason, and she feels the judgment of everyone in her life, as well as many of those strangers who listen to her relate the story at those conferences and conventions. After all, Mason's bedroom window was open; the batteries in the baby monitor were dead. She also feels guilt about her feelings prior to Mason's kidnapping. Being a full-time mother can be an isolating and disappointing experience, especially for a woman who had a successful career as a journalist an misses working and having a social life, as well as a husband who found her interesting and desirable. And there is the strain of being constantly and relentlessly needed and depended upon by your child. It is fear, guilt, and ruminating about the past that keep Isabelle from sleeping, and she knows time is running out because human beings cannot survive without sleep indefinitely. She is conscious of the fact that she is becoming increasingly paranoid, and unable to discern what is real from what she imagines.
All the Dangerous Things is a tautly-crafted, tense, and absorbing mystery that is, at times, difficult to read. Because as Willingham examines her protagonist's deepest fears, Isabelle is relatable and empathetic. After all, the idea of being so out of control and beyond one's moral boundaries that one could be capable of committing unspeakable acts is horrifying and terrifying. Isabelle's angst and self-doubt are palpable and affecting, even as Willingham inspires readers to view her with suspicion while injecting clues to Mason's whereabouts at expertly-timed intervals. Isabelle is surrounded by other female characters who are empathetic and compelling, especially Isabelle's mother whose story Willingham unravels compassionately. The mystery around which Isabelle's misery revolves is plausibly constructed, and the conclusion shocking. All the Dangerous Things is almost suffocatingly atmospheric, which heightens the dramatic tension. It is engrossing, solidly entertaining, and ideal for readers who enjoy slow burning mysteries.
Thanks to NetGalley for an Advance Reader's Copy of the book.