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A review by sooky
The Babysitter by Sheryl Browne
2.0
Do your eyes need a good rolling? Try this!
Prologues can be a great tool to set the mood for the rest of the story. Or, as it happened in The Babysitter, can ruin all the fun. I said time and time again, I don’t need hundreds of plot twists to enjoy a story, but when it comes to psychological thrillers, I do expect a few surprises down the line. The only surprise I got from this one was the fact that I actually managed to get to the end of it.
To begin with, I just couldn’t get over how much I didn’t like the writing style. When it comes to descriptions, I’m a sucker for them. Not so much however when they are so utilitarian. People answered each other ‘acerbically‘, looked at one another ‘interestedly‘ on at least five occasions, while their hair splayed ‘sexily‘ around. Oh hell, no!
*Norrie rolled her eyes exasperatedly and put down the book annoyedly*
You know what I’m sayin’?
If you ask me, Mark is possibly the worst detective on the face of the planet. He clearly can’t read people, doesn’t see what’s right in front of him and despite of being supposedly such a great guy, treats his wife like crap when the poor woman is clearly going through some tough shit, that coincidentally started five minutes after the amazing babysitter with the giant tits moved in with them.
Jade was dodgy as fuck, of course, but kind of like a cartoon villain. You know, the ones who walk around constantly cackling (or should I say laughing maniacally?) and having the crazy eye.
You are probably wondering why I plodded through this one, when it’s clear I didn’t think much of it. Well, my curiosity you see, is an annoying little bastard, and most inconvenient. I kept thinking there must be something else at play here, and surely there will be something at the end that will make me slap my forehead with its shocking revelation. Want to know a secret? There wasn’t one.
Prologues can be a great tool to set the mood for the rest of the story. Or, as it happened in The Babysitter, can ruin all the fun. I said time and time again, I don’t need hundreds of plot twists to enjoy a story, but when it comes to psychological thrillers, I do expect a few surprises down the line. The only surprise I got from this one was the fact that I actually managed to get to the end of it.
To begin with, I just couldn’t get over how much I didn’t like the writing style. When it comes to descriptions, I’m a sucker for them. Not so much however when they are so utilitarian. People answered each other ‘acerbically‘, looked at one another ‘interestedly‘ on at least five occasions, while their hair splayed ‘sexily‘ around. Oh hell, no!
*Norrie rolled her eyes exasperatedly and put down the book annoyedly*
You know what I’m sayin’?
If you ask me, Mark is possibly the worst detective on the face of the planet. He clearly can’t read people, doesn’t see what’s right in front of him and despite of being supposedly such a great guy, treats his wife like crap when the poor woman is clearly going through some tough shit, that coincidentally started five minutes after the amazing babysitter with the giant tits moved in with them.
Jade was dodgy as fuck, of course, but kind of like a cartoon villain. You know, the ones who walk around constantly cackling (or should I say laughing maniacally?) and having the crazy eye.
You are probably wondering why I plodded through this one, when it’s clear I didn’t think much of it. Well, my curiosity you see, is an annoying little bastard, and most inconvenient. I kept thinking there must be something else at play here, and surely there will be something at the end that will make me slap my forehead with its shocking revelation. Want to know a secret? There wasn’t one.