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justinkhchen's reviews
515 reviews
The Secret Talker by Geling Yan
4.0
4 stars
Utilizing tropes common in domestic thrillers, The Secret Talker is a lyrical study on buried secrets, deceptive harmony, and wandering desire in a seemingly steady marriage.
Once you accept the rather archaic method of exchange Geling Yan chose as the primary narrative device (it has been a long time since I personally write / receive meaningful, lengthy emails; texting and other apps have since taken its place.), it's a rather effective storytelling device; organically revealing events in a stream of consciousness manner, providing suspense and twist without feeling overtly manipulative.
Being an #ownvoices novel, the Chinese protagonist feels authentic, and her cultural background and upbringing is what validate the realism of The Secret Talker's narrative; the trope can only be sustained convincingly with a conflicting immigrated Chinese's state of mind: glorification of the Western culture (and maintaining it at all cost), internal turmoil beneath a placid facade (unwilling to be seen broken), and disdain, but the same time, nostalgic for one's humbled root.
The ending twist is emotionally rewarding, if not The Sixth Sense level surprisingly, nor as flawlessly executed. The puzzle pieces come together abruptly with many conveniences, as if the author has hit the minimum page count for the assignment, rather than letting the narrative reach its resolution in an appropriate pacing. This shortcoming aside, the reveal does warrant The Secret Talker a second read-through, as it alters the reader's interpretation of a specific character.
The Secret Talker is more literary fiction than thriller, it uses suspenseful scenarios as catalyst to deep dive into a character's psyche, rather than purely for their shock value. If you are a fan of beautiful prose and well-rounded, flawed protagonist, this book is worth a try.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
Utilizing tropes common in domestic thrillers, The Secret Talker is a lyrical study on buried secrets, deceptive harmony, and wandering desire in a seemingly steady marriage.
Once you accept the rather archaic method of exchange Geling Yan chose as the primary narrative device (it has been a long time since I personally write / receive meaningful, lengthy emails; texting and other apps have since taken its place.), it's a rather effective storytelling device; organically revealing events in a stream of consciousness manner, providing suspense and twist without feeling overtly manipulative.
Being an #ownvoices novel, the Chinese protagonist feels authentic, and her cultural background and upbringing is what validate the realism of The Secret Talker's narrative; the trope can only be sustained convincingly with a conflicting immigrated Chinese's state of mind: glorification of the Western culture (and maintaining it at all cost), internal turmoil beneath a placid facade (unwilling to be seen broken), and disdain, but the same time, nostalgic for one's humbled root.
The ending twist is emotionally rewarding, if not The Sixth Sense level surprisingly, nor as flawlessly executed. The puzzle pieces come together abruptly with many conveniences, as if the author has hit the minimum page count for the assignment, rather than letting the narrative reach its resolution in an appropriate pacing. This shortcoming aside, the reveal does warrant The Secret Talker a second read-through, as it alters the reader's interpretation of a specific character.
The Secret Talker is more literary fiction than thriller, it uses suspenseful scenarios as catalyst to deep dive into a character's psyche, rather than purely for their shock value. If you are a fan of beautiful prose and well-rounded, flawed protagonist, this book is worth a try.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
One by One by Ruth Ware
3.0
3 stars
One by One is sharply written, and completely addictive; Ruth Ware took a risky gamble by re-framing the classic locked-room mystery of Agatha Christie, to tell a modern day thriller taking place during a company retreat among snowy mountain. It's risky because her intervention to the classic murder mystery formula might ultimately also be the book's downfall (see what I did there—for a novel involving an avalanche...), ending up not pleasing fans of either murder mystery or thriller genre.
The saving grace is the overall setup, and the cast. While not necessarily to everyone's taste, I personally find the corporate dispute and app development angle fascinating, as well as refreshing to read within this context. Ruth Ware does an excellent job weaving them throughout, without feeling like she is simply regurgitating her research on tech startups. The characters are well fleshed-out, believable as someone from that particular social circle (I've encountered a few in my life to confirm!). You end up feeling sympathetic towards (some of) them, which makes the lingering epilogue still enjoyable to read through.
My recommendation: go into this book without assuming where the story should go (based on an assumed genre standard), then you might extract more enjoyment out of it.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
Ultimately One by One is still a thriller at its core, just decked out in murder mystery ornaments. Even with the clues and setups, there's ultimately no real mystery to solve; the novel reveals the culprit quite informally at about 60% (I was dumbfounded, and thought this was simply a misdirect—so I guess in a way it did succeed as a 'plot twist'), which might dispirit readers who are eager to deduce and guess the murderer alongside. In hindsight, the fact One by One's narrative is written from such limited perspectives, should be a telltale sign that deception is never the game it's attempting to play.
On the other hand, the first half of the book might bore thriller seekers to death; like most locked-room mysteries, it primarily consists of: the group being dispersed → someone is killed with strange circumstance → the group assembles and goes over plausible motive and alibi → the cycle repeats, and Ruth Ware remains quite faithful to this rhythm. For readers who are expecting something more event-driven, similar to her previous works, might find the large cast and keeping track of everyone's whereabouts an exhausting chore.
One by One does have some narrative inconsistencies, which dampen the its overall plausibility. One being the blatant dismissal of character Kate, the chalet's booking manager. Being offsite from the avalanche, she has the knowledge and capability to send help immediately. But the novel simply ignores this in order to create an extended period of isolation at the chalet. The characterization of the culprit is another weak spot, who is extremely sharp and resourceful one moment, and completely dumb in others. his/her demise is led by a series of stupid choices, which is in stark contrast to the first half of the book, where he/she is able to murder multiple people without suspicion.
**Minor spoiler ends**
Ultimately, I had a good enough time with One by One, even though the trope-bending experiment is less than successful, and the overall pacing feels lopsided (I've rarely encountered an epilogue this excessive), the setting and the character still makes it an engrossing read.
One by One is sharply written, and completely addictive; Ruth Ware took a risky gamble by re-framing the classic locked-room mystery of Agatha Christie, to tell a modern day thriller taking place during a company retreat among snowy mountain. It's risky because her intervention to the classic murder mystery formula might ultimately also be the book's downfall (see what I did there—for a novel involving an avalanche...), ending up not pleasing fans of either murder mystery or thriller genre.
The saving grace is the overall setup, and the cast. While not necessarily to everyone's taste, I personally find the corporate dispute and app development angle fascinating, as well as refreshing to read within this context. Ruth Ware does an excellent job weaving them throughout, without feeling like she is simply regurgitating her research on tech startups. The characters are well fleshed-out, believable as someone from that particular social circle (I've encountered a few in my life to confirm!). You end up feeling sympathetic towards (some of) them, which makes the lingering epilogue still enjoyable to read through.
My recommendation: go into this book without assuming where the story should go (based on an assumed genre standard), then you might extract more enjoyment out of it.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
Ultimately One by One is still a thriller at its core, just decked out in murder mystery ornaments. Even with the clues and setups, there's ultimately no real mystery to solve; the novel reveals the culprit quite informally at about 60% (I was dumbfounded, and thought this was simply a misdirect—so I guess in a way it did succeed as a 'plot twist'), which might dispirit readers who are eager to deduce and guess the murderer alongside. In hindsight, the fact One by One's narrative is written from such limited perspectives, should be a telltale sign that deception is never the game it's attempting to play.
On the other hand, the first half of the book might bore thriller seekers to death; like most locked-room mysteries, it primarily consists of: the group being dispersed → someone is killed with strange circumstance → the group assembles and goes over plausible motive and alibi → the cycle repeats, and Ruth Ware remains quite faithful to this rhythm. For readers who are expecting something more event-driven, similar to her previous works, might find the large cast and keeping track of everyone's whereabouts an exhausting chore.
One by One does have some narrative inconsistencies, which dampen the its overall plausibility. One being the blatant dismissal of character Kate, the chalet's booking manager. Being offsite from the avalanche, she has the knowledge and capability to send help immediately. But the novel simply ignores this in order to create an extended period of isolation at the chalet. The characterization of the culprit is another weak spot, who is extremely sharp and resourceful one moment, and completely dumb in others. his/her demise is led by a series of stupid choices, which is in stark contrast to the first half of the book, where he/she is able to murder multiple people without suspicion.
**Minor spoiler ends**
Ultimately, I had a good enough time with One by One, even though the trope-bending experiment is less than successful, and the overall pacing feels lopsided (I've rarely encountered an epilogue this excessive), the setting and the character still makes it an engrossing read.
Cheese by Willem Elsschot
4.0
4 stars
A humorous, fish-out-of-water tale about a man's failed attempt at elevating his social status and wealth, by becoming a cheese merchant.
Cheese uses its novella format effectively, as we follow the naive, clearly incompetent protagonist, making one foolish business decision after another, which snowballs into bigger lies and higher stakes. Maintaining its laid-back, slightly cynical tone throughout, I was anticipating Cheese to build towards an all-out, absurdist climax, but in the end it took a more sober, contemplative path for its finale.
Instead of learning the rope of the trade, the protagonist goes to great length furnishing the office of a not yet existed enterprise. The commentary still rings true today (this was written in the 30s); we often are attracted to, and envious of the image of success, but fail to comprehend (or willing to put in) the effort in order to truly achieve it. So we become obsessed with creating the illusion, through material and appearance. I definitely have gone though a phase when I thought upgrading my camera gears will make me a better photographer!
Quick, painless read, and it gets you thinking—worth checking out.
A humorous, fish-out-of-water tale about a man's failed attempt at elevating his social status and wealth, by becoming a cheese merchant.
Cheese uses its novella format effectively, as we follow the naive, clearly incompetent protagonist, making one foolish business decision after another, which snowballs into bigger lies and higher stakes. Maintaining its laid-back, slightly cynical tone throughout, I was anticipating Cheese to build towards an all-out, absurdist climax, but in the end it took a more sober, contemplative path for its finale.
Instead of learning the rope of the trade, the protagonist goes to great length furnishing the office of a not yet existed enterprise. The commentary still rings true today (this was written in the 30s); we often are attracted to, and envious of the image of success, but fail to comprehend (or willing to put in) the effort in order to truly achieve it. So we become obsessed with creating the illusion, through material and appearance. I definitely have gone though a phase when I thought upgrading my camera gears will make me a better photographer!
Quick, painless read, and it gets you thinking—worth checking out.
Find Me by André Aciman
3.0
3 stars
This is a tricky one to rate; part of me thoroughly appreciate Find Me for its beautiful prose and discussion on affection, but as a sequel to Call Me by Your Name, it feels insincere and reeks of cash grab.
First, the positives: André Aciman proves once again his uncanny ability at expressing heartfelt sentiments without tipping into clichés — this book is a literary goldmine for pull-quotes. I also appreciate the melancholic theme Find Me is exploring, that the time lost, and abandonment, no matter how regretful they seem at first glance, might be crucial (or even necessary) to a lasting relationship.
As a sequel, I honestly think this 'novel' (which is really a short story collection) came to fruition only to ride the success of Call Me by Your Name's film adaptation. It's evident André Aciman doesn't have anything significant to add to these characters, so we end up with 4 meandering vignettes that are very constrained in plot and scope. Even if we consider Find Me as pure fan service, it also makes the questionable decision to dedicate the longest segment to Sami (Elio's father), instead of Elio and Oliver.
Find Me should have been trimmed down and released as bonus materials accompanying Call Me by Your Name (like a special edition print), instead of its own stand-alone volume. While still worth checking out for Aciman's concise, elegant writing, Find Me is ultimately an unnecessary sequel that adds nothing to the characters we fell in love with from the original.
This is a tricky one to rate; part of me thoroughly appreciate Find Me for its beautiful prose and discussion on affection, but as a sequel to Call Me by Your Name, it feels insincere and reeks of cash grab.
First, the positives: André Aciman proves once again his uncanny ability at expressing heartfelt sentiments without tipping into clichés — this book is a literary goldmine for pull-quotes. I also appreciate the melancholic theme Find Me is exploring, that the time lost, and abandonment, no matter how regretful they seem at first glance, might be crucial (or even necessary) to a lasting relationship.
As a sequel, I honestly think this 'novel' (which is really a short story collection) came to fruition only to ride the success of Call Me by Your Name's film adaptation. It's evident André Aciman doesn't have anything significant to add to these characters, so we end up with 4 meandering vignettes that are very constrained in plot and scope. Even if we consider Find Me as pure fan service, it also makes the questionable decision to dedicate the longest segment to Sami (Elio's father), instead of Elio and Oliver.
Find Me should have been trimmed down and released as bonus materials accompanying Call Me by Your Name (like a special edition print), instead of its own stand-alone volume. While still worth checking out for Aciman's concise, elegant writing, Find Me is ultimately an unnecessary sequel that adds nothing to the characters we fell in love with from the original.
The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams
3.0
3.5 stars
I'll start my review with a caveat that I'm not a seasoned romance reader, which very much correlate with the unique setup of The Bromance Book Club. The 're-education of love' by way of referencing the regency romance sub-genre is perhaps the strongest aspect of this otherwise run of the mill output.
Aside from the book-within-book interludes, the primary narrative is a serviceable second chance romance, relying heavily on well-worn tropes (moments of miscommunication, one final dramatic quarrel before reaching the happy ending, etc.). Though thoroughly amused by the drama and comedy throughout, I had to turn off my critical brain at the oftentimes cheesy and overly-manipulated scenarios (going to an art supply store as a date, no matter how thoughtful, does not warrant that much awe and giddy).
All in all, The Bromance Book Club is pleasant enough; I appreciate it the most when it goes 'meta' and referencing its own genre tropes. Do I wish it had push that train of thought further? Yes. But as it stands it's more than enjoyable with its charming, relatable set of main characters (particularly appreciate the inclusion of speech disorder as a character trait; as someone who have a similar condition, it's nice to see it represented), and plenty fun antics to distract.
p.s. definitely try the audiobook, which in my opinion is the ultimate way to consume this.
I'll start my review with a caveat that I'm not a seasoned romance reader, which very much correlate with the unique setup of The Bromance Book Club. The 're-education of love' by way of referencing the regency romance sub-genre is perhaps the strongest aspect of this otherwise run of the mill output.
Aside from the book-within-book interludes, the primary narrative is a serviceable second chance romance, relying heavily on well-worn tropes (moments of miscommunication, one final dramatic quarrel before reaching the happy ending, etc.). Though thoroughly amused by the drama and comedy throughout, I had to turn off my critical brain at the oftentimes cheesy and overly-manipulated scenarios (going to an art supply store as a date, no matter how thoughtful, does not warrant that much awe and giddy).
All in all, The Bromance Book Club is pleasant enough; I appreciate it the most when it goes 'meta' and referencing its own genre tropes. Do I wish it had push that train of thought further? Yes. But as it stands it's more than enjoyable with its charming, relatable set of main characters (particularly appreciate the inclusion of speech disorder as a character trait; as someone who have a similar condition, it's nice to see it represented), and plenty fun antics to distract.
p.s. definitely try the audiobook, which in my opinion is the ultimate way to consume this.
No Exit by Taylor Adams
4.0
4 stars
Comparing to movies, if you enjoy one-location thrillers with a dash of dark humor, such as Panic Room or Red Eye, than No Exit by Taylor Adams should be right up your alley. Even with its shaky beginning, the novel briskly transitions into an efficient tale for survival, with just enough twists and turns to excite.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
In contrary to most thrillers, which tend to trip over their narrative in their last act, No Exit begins with its weakest section. Taylor Adams sets up plenty conditions in order to isolate the characters as well as their location (a highway rest stop), unfortunately many of them seem naively convenient (such as the absolute absence of traffic and device to charge a phone). Suspension of disbelief aside, the protagonist, college student Darby Thorne, initially comes across as very standoffish and judgmental, profiling people based solely on their appearance (she immediately labels Lars as THE suspect without any substantial proof), which leads to some questionable character decisions in order to get the plot rolling.
Fortunately once the cat-and-mouse game starts, there are enough fast actions and clever fake-outs to distract readers from over-analyzing their validity. Even with some extraneous threads never being fully utilized (the child's Addison's disease is basically a throwaway detail) or fleshed out (the initial kidnapping is possibly the worst planned crime ever), Taylor Adams is able to sustain a level of entertaining chaos, ramping up each character's inadequacy at being either a kidnapper, or a heroine. The constant course correction by both parties is what keeps No Exit addictively engrossing, and the novel also doesn't hold back when it come to violence, adding a layer of irreversible severity to the mix.
**Minor spoiler ends**
Overall, No Exit is a lot smarter than most thrillers, with just enough levity keeping it from descending into merciless torture porn. If you can get pass the unrealistic setup and an unlikable protagonist in the first couple chapters, you'll be rewarded with a wild ride.
Comparing to movies, if you enjoy one-location thrillers with a dash of dark humor, such as Panic Room or Red Eye, than No Exit by Taylor Adams should be right up your alley. Even with its shaky beginning, the novel briskly transitions into an efficient tale for survival, with just enough twists and turns to excite.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
In contrary to most thrillers, which tend to trip over their narrative in their last act, No Exit begins with its weakest section. Taylor Adams sets up plenty conditions in order to isolate the characters as well as their location (a highway rest stop), unfortunately many of them seem naively convenient (such as the absolute absence of traffic and device to charge a phone). Suspension of disbelief aside, the protagonist, college student Darby Thorne, initially comes across as very standoffish and judgmental, profiling people based solely on their appearance (she immediately labels Lars as THE suspect without any substantial proof), which leads to some questionable character decisions in order to get the plot rolling.
Fortunately once the cat-and-mouse game starts, there are enough fast actions and clever fake-outs to distract readers from over-analyzing their validity. Even with some extraneous threads never being fully utilized (the child's Addison's disease is basically a throwaway detail) or fleshed out (the initial kidnapping is possibly the worst planned crime ever), Taylor Adams is able to sustain a level of entertaining chaos, ramping up each character's inadequacy at being either a kidnapper, or a heroine. The constant course correction by both parties is what keeps No Exit addictively engrossing, and the novel also doesn't hold back when it come to violence, adding a layer of irreversible severity to the mix.
**Minor spoiler ends**
Overall, No Exit is a lot smarter than most thrillers, with just enough levity keeping it from descending into merciless torture porn. If you can get pass the unrealistic setup and an unlikable protagonist in the first couple chapters, you'll be rewarded with a wild ride.
Lock Every Door by Riley Sager
2.0
2 stars
Great premise hindered by a below-than-average execution.
With such premise I was looking forward to a psychological thriller in the vein of Rosemary's Baby, which the novel definitely takes inspiration from; but what we ended up is a skeletal frame of a plot without any of the delicious meat...
Lock Every Door is full of inconsequential padding; the telltale sign first appeared when it took 13 chapters to set off a plot point mentioned in its synopsis (the character Ingrid's disappearance), and the duo-timelines device sprinkled throughout the narrative ultimately provided very little payoff—those chapters can be completely skipped without missing any significant development.
Riley Sager's basic, unadorned writing style is another downgrading factor for me, which seems to work against the genre that is desperate for intricate mood-setting and atmosphere. It's like watching a movie filmed with office fluorescent light and IKEA furniture—yes, lines are delivered and plot understood, but in the least engrossing way possible.
The combination of a sluggish pacing and passionless writing drives my full attention to scrutinize Lock Every Door's plot, which is filled with obvious holes and logic gaps, beyond my typical thriller genre tolerance. It's as if the publisher rushed to push the book out, without giving it the final polish, because a lot of its clumsiness could've been cleaned up through a couple more rounds of editing.
Spoiler:
- If this whole black market scheme has been operating for decades, why are they so bad at getting rid of previous tenant / sitter objects in the apartment? (Magazine with Marjorie Milton's name, Ingrid's key in the dumbwaiter, inscribed copy of Heart of a Dreamer everywhere, Erica's cellphone in a grate, Megan's ring, etc.)
- Why would Marjorie Milton wear an ouroboros pin—when ultimately The Bartholomew was not a place of occult but simply an organ transplant center for her? That's like wearing a t-shirt from the dentist where you got your teeth cleaned.
- I find it hilarious that Jule carries her family photo with the cracked frame DURING ALL THIS TIME—could've easily just taken the photo with her instead.
.
Ultimately, Lock Every Door was not a fulfilling read; it has a promising setup, but everything else feels extremely sloppy and unfinished. Which got me concerned, as I already have the same author's Home Before Dark sitting next to me...
Great premise hindered by a below-than-average execution.
With such premise I was looking forward to a psychological thriller in the vein of Rosemary's Baby, which the novel definitely takes inspiration from; but what we ended up is a skeletal frame of a plot without any of the delicious meat...
Lock Every Door is full of inconsequential padding; the telltale sign first appeared when it took 13 chapters to set off a plot point mentioned in its synopsis (the character Ingrid's disappearance), and the duo-timelines device sprinkled throughout the narrative ultimately provided very little payoff—those chapters can be completely skipped without missing any significant development.
Riley Sager's basic, unadorned writing style is another downgrading factor for me, which seems to work against the genre that is desperate for intricate mood-setting and atmosphere. It's like watching a movie filmed with office fluorescent light and IKEA furniture—yes, lines are delivered and plot understood, but in the least engrossing way possible.
The combination of a sluggish pacing and passionless writing drives my full attention to scrutinize Lock Every Door's plot, which is filled with obvious holes and logic gaps, beyond my typical thriller genre tolerance. It's as if the publisher rushed to push the book out, without giving it the final polish, because a lot of its clumsiness could've been cleaned up through a couple more rounds of editing.
Spoiler:
Spoiler
- The whole setup of finding apartment sitters to ultimately salvage their organs is an intriguing concept, but extremely convoluted—there are so much implied risks, and so many alternative ways to elicit candidates with even lesser liability (why not just go to homeless shelters directly?)- If this whole black market scheme has been operating for decades, why are they so bad at getting rid of previous tenant / sitter objects in the apartment? (Magazine with Marjorie Milton's name, Ingrid's key in the dumbwaiter, inscribed copy of Heart of a Dreamer everywhere, Erica's cellphone in a grate, Megan's ring, etc.)
- Why would Marjorie Milton wear an ouroboros pin—when ultimately The Bartholomew was not a place of occult but simply an organ transplant center for her? That's like wearing a t-shirt from the dentist where you got your teeth cleaned.
- I find it hilarious that Jule carries her family photo with the cracked frame DURING ALL THIS TIME—could've easily just taken the photo with her instead.
.
Ultimately, Lock Every Door was not a fulfilling read; it has a promising setup, but everything else feels extremely sloppy and unfinished. Which got me concerned, as I already have the same author's Home Before Dark sitting next to me...
Ruby Falls by Deborah Goodrich Royce
3.0
3 stars
A dreamlike read with prose that paints vivid imagery, Ruby Falls has moments of brilliant storytelling, but ultimately underwhelming; trapping itself with conventional thriller tropes, instead of heading down a bolder, more original direction.
Comparing Ruby Falls to The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides and Rebecca in its marketing copy is a little pompous, and ultimately not doing itself any favor. In my opinion, the 'final twist' is the novel's weakest link, and even though Rebecca is often referred to throughout (The protagonist is playing the lead in a new film adaptation), its presence is superficial at best, offering little substantial juxtaposition or correlation to Royce's story. (Same goes with naming each chapter after a movie, when there's no clear association to the happening in the plot.)
If we have to compare Ruby Falls to existing materials, David Lynch's Mulholland Drive and Charlotte Perkins Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper comes to mind (Alice in Wonderland is another contender).
Ruby Falls is at its best when it embraces its hallucinatory quality, painting an alternate, rose-tinted Los Angeles, where the protagonist transverses between a house with kooky cat lady, an antique store in the middle of Hollywood, and the blurring boundary between her shuttered memory, Hollywood make-believe, and an unreliable present.
The plot ultimately leads to a reveal that should be no surprise to domestic thriller enthusiasts, however, such a defining resolution with concrete evidence put all the surrealist build-ups in jeopardy; instead of being satisfied with this book as a metaphoric fever dream of a troubling mind (where things are symbolic and not grounded to common sense), we are forced to re-analyze the preceding events through a new, logic-focused lens, and unfortunately many elements starting to fall apart under such scrutiny.
Ruby Falls should've been a literary fiction with a touch of magic realism through and through, instead of the sleight of hand act pivoting to a thriller in its final moment, because the only player that got played, is itself.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
A dreamlike read with prose that paints vivid imagery, Ruby Falls has moments of brilliant storytelling, but ultimately underwhelming; trapping itself with conventional thriller tropes, instead of heading down a bolder, more original direction.
Comparing Ruby Falls to The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides and Rebecca in its marketing copy is a little pompous, and ultimately not doing itself any favor. In my opinion, the 'final twist' is the novel's weakest link, and even though Rebecca is often referred to throughout (The protagonist is playing the lead in a new film adaptation), its presence is superficial at best, offering little substantial juxtaposition or correlation to Royce's story. (Same goes with naming each chapter after a movie, when there's no clear association to the happening in the plot.)
If we have to compare Ruby Falls to existing materials, David Lynch's Mulholland Drive and Charlotte Perkins Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper comes to mind (Alice in Wonderland is another contender).
Ruby Falls is at its best when it embraces its hallucinatory quality, painting an alternate, rose-tinted Los Angeles, where the protagonist transverses between a house with kooky cat lady, an antique store in the middle of Hollywood, and the blurring boundary between her shuttered memory, Hollywood make-believe, and an unreliable present.
The plot ultimately leads to a reveal that should be no surprise to domestic thriller enthusiasts, however, such a defining resolution with concrete evidence put all the surrealist build-ups in jeopardy; instead of being satisfied with this book as a metaphoric fever dream of a troubling mind (where things are symbolic and not grounded to common sense), we are forced to re-analyze the preceding events through a new, logic-focused lens, and unfortunately many elements starting to fall apart under such scrutiny.
Ruby Falls should've been a literary fiction with a touch of magic realism through and through, instead of the sleight of hand act pivoting to a thriller in its final moment, because the only player that got played, is itself.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
Earl's Well That Ends Well by Jane Ashford
3.0
3.5 stars
Can a novel still be categorized as romance when your romantic leads are levelheaded to a fault? Earl's Well That Ends Well, with its homonymous word play of a title, might has misrepresented itself as a potentially quirky, lively affair. While the book is skillfully crafted and never dull, the minuscule presence of courtship might disappoint readers seeking escapist romance fun.
The romantic pairing will instantly hook you: a well-reputed widowed earl in his 50s (still handsome and in good shape, as the book constantly reminds us), and a Spanish noblewoman (in her early 40s) with a traumatic past, perfectly content with solitude for life. Even though the mutual attraction is established early on, author Jane Ashford keeps them at arm's length: the earl too polite to encroach, the noblewoman too stubborn to disrupt her hard-earned peace. This standstill is maintained well into 70% of the story, when their relationship finally comes to the forefront and advances. When it rains, it pours, even though the sample-sized romance still manages to close out the narrative on a gratifying note, it remains an off-balanced storytelling, even for the most patient reader.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
To fill that romance-less 70%, Earl's Well That Ends Well paints an engrossing world packed with a surprisingly large cast of secondary characters, and a very plot-driven narrative. I was pleasantly surprised to realize the main narrative through line involves solving a serial kidnapping scheme. Being the fifth book in a series, I'm sure readers with previous knowledge will be happy to see characters returning for another round.
**Minor spoiler ends**
While I didn't get the brash banter filled, passion-exploding novel I was hoping for (I mean, the earl is clearly going through a midlife crisis, how can you not have fun starting with that?), I do appreciate Jane Ashford's more sensible, slowburn approach. Just beware in Earl's Well That Ends Well, it focuses more on things happening around the two leads, rather than things between them.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
Can a novel still be categorized as romance when your romantic leads are levelheaded to a fault? Earl's Well That Ends Well, with its homonymous word play of a title, might has misrepresented itself as a potentially quirky, lively affair. While the book is skillfully crafted and never dull, the minuscule presence of courtship might disappoint readers seeking escapist romance fun.
The romantic pairing will instantly hook you: a well-reputed widowed earl in his 50s (still handsome and in good shape, as the book constantly reminds us), and a Spanish noblewoman (in her early 40s) with a traumatic past, perfectly content with solitude for life. Even though the mutual attraction is established early on, author Jane Ashford keeps them at arm's length: the earl too polite to encroach, the noblewoman too stubborn to disrupt her hard-earned peace. This standstill is maintained well into 70% of the story, when their relationship finally comes to the forefront and advances. When it rains, it pours, even though the sample-sized romance still manages to close out the narrative on a gratifying note, it remains an off-balanced storytelling, even for the most patient reader.
**Minor spoiler ahead**
To fill that romance-less 70%, Earl's Well That Ends Well paints an engrossing world packed with a surprisingly large cast of secondary characters, and a very plot-driven narrative. I was pleasantly surprised to realize the main narrative through line involves solving a serial kidnapping scheme. Being the fifth book in a series, I'm sure readers with previous knowledge will be happy to see characters returning for another round.
**Minor spoiler ends**
While I didn't get the brash banter filled, passion-exploding novel I was hoping for (I mean, the earl is clearly going through a midlife crisis, how can you not have fun starting with that?), I do appreciate Jane Ashford's more sensible, slowburn approach. Just beware in Earl's Well That Ends Well, it focuses more on things happening around the two leads, rather than things between them.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
Do You Want to Start a Scandal by Tessa Dare
4.0
4 stars
Do You Want to Start a Scandal proves you can still trigger the joy of reading, even with an overly familiar formula — through a ferocious pacing, fleshed out characters, and abundance of spirited retorts.
Tessa Dare's snappy, light-hearted writing style is the MVP here, filling in the blank with vivid banters. It's not a plot-focused book (I'm sure no one is surprised by where the story is ultimately heading), but the commotion between the start and the end offer ample opportunity to bring the two protagonists to life. While I applaud the attempt at multiple narrative threads, they ultimately resolve with a wrap-up that's a little too juvenile even for the whimsy the book is going for. I also appreciate this book works as a stand-alone (even being a part of 2 series), unlike another romance series book I picked up recently (which baits you to pick up the next one).
Do You Want to Start a Scandal may have dragged a little near the end, and doesn't break new ground, but it's a very polished, adorable regency romance output — as someone who is still relatively new to the genre, I will definitely look up more Tessa Dare's work.
A note of caution: for me, the romance genre is like candy, delectable but teeth-rottingly sweet—I will need to pace myself between books to prevent from burning out by its tropes and formulaic structure.
Do You Want to Start a Scandal proves you can still trigger the joy of reading, even with an overly familiar formula — through a ferocious pacing, fleshed out characters, and abundance of spirited retorts.
Tessa Dare's snappy, light-hearted writing style is the MVP here, filling in the blank with vivid banters. It's not a plot-focused book (I'm sure no one is surprised by where the story is ultimately heading), but the commotion between the start and the end offer ample opportunity to bring the two protagonists to life. While I applaud the attempt at multiple narrative threads, they ultimately resolve with a wrap-up that's a little too juvenile even for the whimsy the book is going for. I also appreciate this book works as a stand-alone (even being a part of 2 series), unlike another romance series book I picked up recently (which baits you to pick up the next one).
Do You Want to Start a Scandal may have dragged a little near the end, and doesn't break new ground, but it's a very polished, adorable regency romance output — as someone who is still relatively new to the genre, I will definitely look up more Tessa Dare's work.
A note of caution: for me, the romance genre is like candy, delectable but teeth-rottingly sweet—I will need to pace myself between books to prevent from burning out by its tropes and formulaic structure.