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A review by thisisbert
Gin and Daggers by Jessica Fletcher, Donald Bain
2.0
Well it's not like it's the worst book I've ever read, or even the worst tie-in fiction I've ever read, but it's far from the best in either category. The plot itself was decent and in dialogue Bain captured Jessica, I think, but it was hard to imagine the narration portion really being Jessica's first person thoughts.
When I think about standout writers in the mystery field, who cross over to make broad sales outside of those who purchase heavily within the genre (which describes, canonically, JB Fletcher) I think about prose that both captures an atmosphere and says something incisive about the other characters, the setting and the relevant themes. There's nothing really wrong with Bain's first person prose as it fits into the general paperback cosy catalogue, but when people choose to write first person (in this case I suppose not really a choice but a stylistic device to make putting her name on as a fake co-author more sensical) and their protagonist is someone with a special way of looking at the world around them -- a top notch writer like Jessica, a photographer, etc. -- I get kind of disappointed when the writing doesn't match up with that. In this book the description is sometimes vacant, leaving at times a feeling as though everything happens in white space, or sometimes overly descriptive of random things like what everyone ate or what Jess is wearing, and sometimes the author just seems to sort of ... describe the wrong elements of a scene to evoke anything. Early in the book the author describes a wide hallway lined with bookcases, but he wants to expound on that. Sure. But he just chooses to give us the width in feet of the hallway. Well. Okay. Thanks. Definitely I have a different opinion of this home now I know to imagine the halls eight feet instead of seven. I'm sure that's exactly the sort of thing a mystery-writing, book-loving sleuth like Jessica Fletcher would notice, and not, say, the architecture or the decor or what kind of books dominated the shelves or basically anything else which might create atmosphere or show us a little something about the house's owner, rather than having everything told us by Jess' thoughts.
Anyway, my copy seemed to have the offensive car scene excised and replaced with a little pondering about the fact that she doesn't drive, so that's nice. Overall the book's probably got a slightly better plot than many of the novels it would be sold alongside, but some awkward issues with when to show, when to tell, and when it's irrelevant. I'll read more of the later ones, as some of this could be teething issues trying to hit a nice stride between getting the polite, even respectable atmosphere of the show while balancing the need for fluid writing and the creation of atmosphere and suspense.
When I think about standout writers in the mystery field, who cross over to make broad sales outside of those who purchase heavily within the genre (which describes, canonically, JB Fletcher) I think about prose that both captures an atmosphere and says something incisive about the other characters, the setting and the relevant themes. There's nothing really wrong with Bain's first person prose as it fits into the general paperback cosy catalogue, but when people choose to write first person (in this case I suppose not really a choice but a stylistic device to make putting her name on as a fake co-author more sensical) and their protagonist is someone with a special way of looking at the world around them -- a top notch writer like Jessica, a photographer, etc. -- I get kind of disappointed when the writing doesn't match up with that. In this book the description is sometimes vacant, leaving at times a feeling as though everything happens in white space, or sometimes overly descriptive of random things like what everyone ate or what Jess is wearing, and sometimes the author just seems to sort of ... describe the wrong elements of a scene to evoke anything. Early in the book the author describes a wide hallway lined with bookcases, but he wants to expound on that. Sure. But he just chooses to give us the width in feet of the hallway. Well. Okay. Thanks. Definitely I have a different opinion of this home now I know to imagine the halls eight feet instead of seven. I'm sure that's exactly the sort of thing a mystery-writing, book-loving sleuth like Jessica Fletcher would notice, and not, say, the architecture or the decor or what kind of books dominated the shelves or basically anything else which might create atmosphere or show us a little something about the house's owner, rather than having everything told us by Jess' thoughts.
Anyway, my copy seemed to have the offensive car scene excised and replaced with a little pondering about the fact that she doesn't drive, so that's nice. Overall the book's probably got a slightly better plot than many of the novels it would be sold alongside, but some awkward issues with when to show, when to tell, and when it's irrelevant. I'll read more of the later ones, as some of this could be teething issues trying to hit a nice stride between getting the polite, even respectable atmosphere of the show while balancing the need for fluid writing and the creation of atmosphere and suspense.