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A review by lacie6984
Deceptive Calm by Patricia Skipper
1.0
Rarely have I had such a visceral reaction to a book as I did with Deceptive Calm by Patricia Skipper. This is a novel that not only failed to deliver but left me deeply unsettled for reasons that go beyond its poor writing. At its core, something about this book just did not sit right with my soul—primarily the fact that a white woman authored a story about the plight of a Black woman passing for white. It felt unnecessary, and at times, the narrative came across as a vehicle for the author to gratuitously use racial slurs under the guise of storytelling.
The plot—if you can call it that—is riddled with holes, inconsistencies, and juvenile writing. The story is incoherent, with random time jumps and jarring transitions that made no sense. It reads more like an unedited brainstorming session rather than a novel. A prime example of this chaos is the bizarre scene in the library where Vanessa, the main character, and her friends are researching the term "illegal immigrant." This inexplicably leads to the sudden, absurd idea to steal a dead white baby’s birth certificate as part of a "high school prank." Who in their right mind steals someone’s identity as a prank? The leaps in logic throughout this book are astounding, and not in a good way.
And then there’s Trisha, the friend who inexplicably takes up several chapters of the book—chapters that serve no purpose to the main storyline. In fact, at one point, I began to wonder if Deceptive Calm was actually supposed to be about Trisha and her career, given how much the author lingered on her job and personal life. Her character’s significance is never made clear, and her presence ends up adding to the overall sense of disjointedness.
The writing style itself is juvenile at best and frustratingly lazy at worst. There’s no continuity or congruency between scenes, and Skipper frequently refers to established characters with unnecessary labels. For example, Vanessa, the main character, is established early on as an orphan, but two sentences later, she’s randomly referred to as “the orphan,” as if we hadn’t just spent the entire book getting to know her. Dr. Hale, who is already identified as a surgeon, is similarly referred to as "the surgeon" in later passages—again, completely unnecessary and jarring. This clumsy writing only serves to further disrupt any sense of immersion.
The structure of the plot is equally disappointing. After dragging the reader through Vanessa’s monotonous career climb and personal life, it’s only about 60% into the book that the actual synopsis starts to take shape. Just as the storyline starts to gain momentum, it falls apart again. Vanessa marries a wealthy, racist man, has a child, and discovers that her baby has sickle cell anemia—this is when Vanessa’s true racial identity as a Black woman is revealed. From here, the book takes a nosedive, attempting to cram as much drama and action into the final chapters as possible.
By the time the story reaches its climax, Vanessa’s husband and father-in-law have concocted a plan to “get rid of” her and her child to avoid the shame of having Black family members. Ten pages from the end, there is still so much unresolved. The husband and father-in-law are arrested, Vanessa’s friend Trisha is mysteriously stabbed with a toxin, Vanessa’s love interest Barry is injured, and they’re all in various states of peril. Despite all this tension, the book abruptly ends with Vanessa and Barry professing their love in his hospital bed—no closure, no resolution, and not even an epilogue to tie up the loose ends.
The inclusion of bizarre, awkward sex scenes throughout the book only adds to the mess. Many felt forced and irrelevant, as if the author just decided to drop them in for shock value or filler. These scenes did nothing to advance the plot and only contributed to the feeling that Skipper was trying too hard to make the story more “edgy” than it needed to be.
All of these issues—the lack of continuity, the forced drama, the gratuitous racial slurs, and the shallow character development—make Deceptive Calm one of the most frustrating and unenjoyable books I have ever read. By the time I reached the end, I was left with nothing but regret that I’d wasted time and money on this book. I’ve seen some shockingly high ratings for this novel, and frankly, I have to wonder if those readers and I experienced the same story.
If you're looking for a well-written, insightful exploration of race, identity, and social issues, I strongly urge you to look elsewhere. Deceptive Calm is a chaotic mess that feels exploitative, with no real purpose or payoff. Save yourself the time and money. Or, if you're feeling adventurous, read it and come find me—maybe we can commiserate together.
The plot—if you can call it that—is riddled with holes, inconsistencies, and juvenile writing. The story is incoherent, with random time jumps and jarring transitions that made no sense. It reads more like an unedited brainstorming session rather than a novel. A prime example of this chaos is the bizarre scene in the library where Vanessa, the main character, and her friends are researching the term "illegal immigrant." This inexplicably leads to the sudden, absurd idea to steal a dead white baby’s birth certificate as part of a "high school prank." Who in their right mind steals someone’s identity as a prank? The leaps in logic throughout this book are astounding, and not in a good way.
And then there’s Trisha, the friend who inexplicably takes up several chapters of the book—chapters that serve no purpose to the main storyline. In fact, at one point, I began to wonder if Deceptive Calm was actually supposed to be about Trisha and her career, given how much the author lingered on her job and personal life. Her character’s significance is never made clear, and her presence ends up adding to the overall sense of disjointedness.
The writing style itself is juvenile at best and frustratingly lazy at worst. There’s no continuity or congruency between scenes, and Skipper frequently refers to established characters with unnecessary labels. For example, Vanessa, the main character, is established early on as an orphan, but two sentences later, she’s randomly referred to as “the orphan,” as if we hadn’t just spent the entire book getting to know her. Dr. Hale, who is already identified as a surgeon, is similarly referred to as "the surgeon" in later passages—again, completely unnecessary and jarring. This clumsy writing only serves to further disrupt any sense of immersion.
The structure of the plot is equally disappointing. After dragging the reader through Vanessa’s monotonous career climb and personal life, it’s only about 60% into the book that the actual synopsis starts to take shape. Just as the storyline starts to gain momentum, it falls apart again. Vanessa marries a wealthy, racist man, has a child, and discovers that her baby has sickle cell anemia—this is when Vanessa’s true racial identity as a Black woman is revealed. From here, the book takes a nosedive, attempting to cram as much drama and action into the final chapters as possible.
By the time the story reaches its climax, Vanessa’s husband and father-in-law have concocted a plan to “get rid of” her and her child to avoid the shame of having Black family members. Ten pages from the end, there is still so much unresolved. The husband and father-in-law are arrested, Vanessa’s friend Trisha is mysteriously stabbed with a toxin, Vanessa’s love interest Barry is injured, and they’re all in various states of peril. Despite all this tension, the book abruptly ends with Vanessa and Barry professing their love in his hospital bed—no closure, no resolution, and not even an epilogue to tie up the loose ends.
The inclusion of bizarre, awkward sex scenes throughout the book only adds to the mess. Many felt forced and irrelevant, as if the author just decided to drop them in for shock value or filler. These scenes did nothing to advance the plot and only contributed to the feeling that Skipper was trying too hard to make the story more “edgy” than it needed to be.
All of these issues—the lack of continuity, the forced drama, the gratuitous racial slurs, and the shallow character development—make Deceptive Calm one of the most frustrating and unenjoyable books I have ever read. By the time I reached the end, I was left with nothing but regret that I’d wasted time and money on this book. I’ve seen some shockingly high ratings for this novel, and frankly, I have to wonder if those readers and I experienced the same story.
If you're looking for a well-written, insightful exploration of race, identity, and social issues, I strongly urge you to look elsewhere. Deceptive Calm is a chaotic mess that feels exploitative, with no real purpose or payoff. Save yourself the time and money. Or, if you're feeling adventurous, read it and come find me—maybe we can commiserate together.