psychology Archives - Page 2 of 3

Yzabel / December 21, 2016

Review: Facehooked

Facehooked: How Facebook Affects Our Emotions, Relationships, and Lives by Suzana Flores

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

The number of Facebook users worldwide exceeded one billion in August of 2012. With the increase in Facebook users, psychologists have seen an alarming increase in the number of Facebook related complaints from their clients. Dr. Suzana Flores, clinical psychologist, has interviewed Facebook users of all ages for three years exploring the positive and negative features of Facebook and evaluating the effect it has on our lives.

Facehooked explores the problems most commonly found on Facebook, including controversial topics such as self-esteem, privacy, peer pressure, stalking, emotional manipulation, among others. Readers are not only provided with practical tools to help identify and avoid unhealthy behaviors, but also suggestions for healthier interaction on Facebook.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

An interesting study on people’s behaviours and addictions on Facebook: a useful social tool in some cases, a problem in others.

To be honest, I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know, but that’s because I’m used to social networks, and to reading about them, and to making my own mistakes on them (I was young once, too, right?). For anyone who’s interested in seeing past the surface and a mild or nonexistent usage, this study will bring enough information to be worth one’s time. It’s also interspersed with testimonies that definitely ring true, considering my own experience of Facebook (and other networks) and what I could see on them.

The book offers insights into typical online behaviours, stressing out where the problems are: not being careful enough with one’s privacy (and the consequences thereof), falling in with toxic people, checking one’s account once too many, seeking validation to the point of forgetting that it can and should come from offline life as well (not to say first and foremost), and so on. I’m positive that a lot of us, even though we probably all see ourselves in the light of “this only happens to other people”, are guilty or one or other behaviour—perhaps not in such a dramatic way, but at least slightly. Who’s never posted a selfie they made sure to embellish, or felt slightly miffed when a friend or family member posted a group picture in which we don’t show our best side?

Of course, let’s not be alarmed. Because one is on Facebook doesn’t mean they’re an addict or have psychological issues. But it’s food for thought. How many times a day do we check our social media accounts, or experience “fear of missing out”? Asking oneself this kind of question can be an eye opener—for instance, I find myself browsing FB when I’m in the bus or other “boring” situations, but I guess I could just bring a book, or chat with someone instead.

Downside: in my opinion, the book could have addressed some of these situations in more depth than just “ignore the person” or “stop checking your phone”. I assume that anyone with addictive behaviours has best seeking help, and a mere book won’t replace an actual person, however when it comes to stalker situations especially, there should be more (I mean when someone’s being stalked on Facebook—just saying “well ignore them” places the responsability on the victim’s shoulders, while the faulty person keeps doing what they shouldn’t). I guess that was not the point of the book; still, it would’ve been useful.

Conclusion: A bit too short to my liking—as usual when I’m interested in something, the more the better—yet an interesting read that I’ll recommend, especially to someone who doesn’t know much about social networks.

Yzabel / August 2, 2016

Review: The Body Reader

The Body Reader by Anne Frasier

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

For three years, Detective Jude Fontaine was kept from the outside world. Held in an underground cell, her only contact was with her sadistic captor, and reading his face was her entire existence. Learning his every line, every movement, and every flicker of thought is what kept her alive.

After her experience with isolation and torture, she is left with a fierce desire for justice—and a heightened ability to interpret the body language of both the living and the dead. Despite colleagues’ doubts about her mental state, she resumes her role at Homicide. Her new partner, Detective Uriah Ashby, doesn’t trust her sanity, and he has a story of his own he’d rather keep hidden. But a killer is on the loose, murdering young women, so the detectives have no choice: they must work together to catch the madman before he strikes again. And no one knows madmen like Jude Fontaine.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

For three years, Detective Jude Fontaine was kept under lock, in the dark, abused and malnourished, at the hands of her unknown abductor. With no contact with any other human being than that man, her survival reflexes made her learn to “read” him, in order to stay alive. After she seizes an opportunity to escape, she realises she has retained this ability to “read” other people, booth the living and the dead: even a frozen corpse will still “talk” to her, in its expression, the way its fists are closed, and so on. As she’s trying to go back to her former career as a cop, Jude understands she can use this newfound skill to make things right.

Excellent idea, but one that I thought wasn’t exploited enough throughout the story: we are made to see June “read” her new partner first, then “read” a corpse, yet nothing much happens in that regard after that, and it’s like the body-reading concept got lost along the way, along a more “traditional” thriller story. This was rather too bad, as I would have enjoyed seeing more of Jude’s ability, things that would truly set her apart from “just yet another very talented cop”.

Another problem I had with the story was the moments when Jude tried to figure out how to go back to a normal life, or even if she could: a new flat, maybe getting back with her boyfriend, her tense relationship with her family… All interesting things, but presented in too descriptive a way, rendered too flat: I didn’t “feel” her predicament, I simply read about it, and it just wasn’t the same. I felt more connected to Uriah, who had his own emotional struggles to contend with, but here too the whole thing was more descriptive, not vibrant enough.

Finally, the ending was too neatly wrapped, too quickly, without the kind of intensity I’d expect from the last chapters of a thriller. I could also sense the places where the story was trying to mislead me, yet at the same time the lack of involvement (or, should I rather say, the sideline involvement) of some characters gave a few things away.

I did like, though, how Jude, even though toughened and emotionally withdrawn, went about getting back control of her life by doing something useful, like picking up cold cases, and how the author didn’t fall into the typical trappings of adding some romantic twist in there. Sure, there’s the boyfriend, but this side plot is never presented as an end in itself, never touted as “Jude’s salvation in the arms of a man”, or whatever similar tripe. In the same vein, Jude and Uriah give off a definite “work partners and perhaps friends someday” vibe, not a “and perhaps lovers someday” one.

2 stars: I quite liked some of the themes here, but this remains an “OK” book and nothing more, because it fell flat for me, and because its ideas weren’t developed enough compared to what the blurb had made me expect.

Yzabel / June 7, 2016

Review: Dear Amy

Dear Amy by Helen Callaghan

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Margot Lewis is the agony aunt for The Cambridge Examiner. Her advice column, Dear Amy, gets all kinds of letters – but none like the one she’s just received:

Dear Amy,
I don’t know where I am. I’ve been kidnapped and am being held prisoner by a strange man. I’m afraid he’ll kill me.
Please help me soon,
Bethan Avery

Bethan Avery has been missing for years. This is surely some cruel hoax. But, as more letters arrive, they contain information that was never made public. How is this happening? Answering this question will cost Margot everything . . .

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Entertaining but not much more than that, I’m afraid. I liked reading this novel, only the mystery wasn’t so deep, and I kept wondering why other characters didn’t challenge this or that plot point more.

It started well enough with Margot, our narrator, struggling in her personal life: her ex-husband wants the house, she’s pondering her own anxiety-related issues (not to mention “shouldn’t I go off my meds now that I’m feeling better?), and one of her former students has vanished in strange circumstances. On top of her job in posh St. Hilda’s school in Cambridge, she also manages an agony aunt column, “Dear Amy”, in a local newspaper. So when letters are sent to her mailbox at said newspaper, from a girl who was abducted and probably killed some twenty years ago, this only adds to Margot’s confusion, while nevertheless pricking her curiosity. There could be a life at stake here… and perhaps even more.

The original abductee, Bethan Avery, was never found, and it’s clearly weird for her to be writing letters, all the more because, from their tone, it seems she’s still captive! So is she a victim, or an accomplice? I thought this was quite a challenging premise. I still think it is. However, two issues arose while I was reading:

1/ I found it easy enough to guess the outcome of the mystery around Bethan.
2/ This part of the novel led to several plot holes that were never filled. For instance, it was never made clear whether the police tested the letters for fingerprints, and too many people either dismissed them as a prank, or didn’t wonder enough about how Bethan-the-captive-girl could’ve sent them. As a result, it diminished their importance, made the whole thing seem far-fetched, and I think that’s part of what allowed me to sense what was wrong here, and take an eductaed guess (turned out I was right).

My other gripes in general concerned:
– How the characters weren’t so much fleshed out as placed there like “token psychological thriller chars” (the psychologist, the potential love interest who helps the narrator…);
– The handling of mental disorders, both through the narrative and through other chars (that Greta psychologist was rather inept);
– Some cliché plot devices, like the culprit’s actions (creepy but could’ve been handled better), or both landline AND mobile phone cut at the same time (is GSM cover so bad around Cambridge, and do all batteries die so quickly? I never kill mine like that, and that’s after spending commuting time playing games on it…);
– And, to be honest, I didn’t really connect with Margot or anyone else in the novel. Mostly they were too infuriating, in one way or another, and didn’t redeem themselves much through other actions or personality traits.

That said, I liked parts of the second main arc (the abducted girl one). It highlighted the plight of all the murdered girls, as well as Bethan’s. It allowed for a thrilling intruder-in-the-hope scene. Its ending was sort of predictable, but somehow that didn’t matter too much, because it’s kind of what I wanted to read anyway.

On the side of writing: I don’t know if this was because I read an ARC—maybe this was changed in the published version—but often present and past tense mixed in a scene or even a paragraph without the narrative justifying it, and I found this jarring.

1.5 stars? I can’t say I hated this book, but it’s a mix between “OK” and “slight dislike”—I really wish the idea at its root had been handled better…

Yzabel / April 21, 2016

Review: Life After Dane

Life After Dane by Edward Lorn

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A mother’s love is undying… and so is Dane.

After the state of Arkansas executes serial killer Dane Peters, the Rest Stop Dentist, his mother discovers that life is darker and more dangerous than she ever expected.

The driving force behind his ghostly return lies buried in his family’s dark past. As Ella desperately seeks a way to lay her son’s troubled soul to rest, she comes face to face with her own failings.

If Ella cannot learn why her son has returned and what he seeks, then the reach of his power will destroy the innocent, and not even his mother will be able to stop him.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Well, that was quite a twisted ride here. A sort of “making of a serial killer”, seen through the eyes of the killer’s mother, Ella, as she reminisces about the past after her son’s death, while stranger and stranger events start happening around her.

Dane Peters, a serial killer known as the Rest Stop Dentist (after his places of killing and his “collection” of teeth from his victims), is gone, sentenced to death and executed. It’s time for his mother, who followed the trial for months, to go back home, where she finds shelter in religion, the only thing she has left—and even that is less than certain, for Dane’s reputation as well as an article by journalist Sven Gödel have tainted her, made her into “the killer’s mother”, and he own church may not want her anymore. So Ella tries to go on as she can, but her enemies are many, tagging her house at night and leaving accusatory articles in her mailbox, while her friends, like Talia, are few.

Enters Dane, his presence brought back through a DVD he left in Sven’s care, a video containing a last message for the person he loved most. His mother? Well… This is when Hell on Earth breaks for Ella and Sven, haunted more and more by Dane. A real ghost? A common hallucination? A hallucination that can hurt and kill, for sure. Threatened and manipulated, the mother and the journalist have no choice but to go on a sick quest of Dane’s making. But did Dane turn evil just because it was in his nature, or did someone made him into a killer?

For me, the supernatural and horror aspects were intriguing, but what interested me even more was the abuse running rampant in Dane’s family. While I would definitely disagree with anyone affirming that being abused as a child turns people evil, the fact is, abuse in any form is very, very likely to leave children (and their future adult selves) scarred, in one way or another. This novel is perhaps more a study of abuse than a ghost/horror story: a study in how a father perpetuates on his son what was done to him, on how a scared mother may choose to turn a blind eye on said abuse, thus becoming complicit in the daily torture, on how love can get horribly warped, on crappy justifications to horrible actions…

As a result, the main characters felt unpleasant yet also sympathetic, a dichotomy that isn’t so easy to achieve. Unpleasant because of their flaws, their tendency to justify them, their voluntary blindness to ugly truths, their hypocrisy, too (Ellaconsidering herself a good Christian, while letting the abuse go on). Sympathetic, because, all in all, Ella and Dane were victims first and foremost (to use the same example, Ella found refuge in her beliefs precisely because facing the truth alone was too hard and she was too scared).

And, to be honest, the teeth motif particularly struck me: losing teeth is one of my deep fears, and in general, anyway, imagining people having their teeth ripped out of their mouths is… just frightening. It hurts terribly, it touches you directly in your face, so close to the seat of your thoughts, it disfigures you, and it’s such a horrible way to bleed to death, too…

Nice touch at the very end, too, but I’m certainly not going to spoil anything.

Yzabel / October 6, 2015

Review: The Dead House

The Dead House by Dawn Kurtagich

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Three students: dead.
Carly Johnson: vanished without a trace.

Two decades have passed since an inferno swept through Elmbridge High, claiming the lives of three teenagers and causing one student, Carly Johnson, to disappear. The main suspect: Kaitlyn, “the girl of nowhere.”

Kaitlyn’s diary, discovered in the ruins of Elmbridge High, reveals the thoughts of a disturbed mind. Its charred pages tell a sinister version of events that took place that tragic night, and the girl of nowhere is caught in the center of it all. But many claim Kaitlyn doesn’t exist, and in a way, she doesn’t – because she is the alter ego of Carly Johnson.

Carly gets the day. Kaitlyn has the night. It’s during the night that a mystery surrounding the Dead House unravels and a dark, twisted magic ruins the lives of each student that dares touch it.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

The kind of format I like (and I probably missed on a lot more, considering I had a digital copy, not a paper one), mixing extracts from diaries, interviews and camera clips, as well as a non-chronological narrative and an unreliable narrator.

The story mostly revolves around Carly and Kaitlyn, twin sisters of sorts, or perhaps not? They’re two minds in one body, and who can tell whether one is crazy and the other just a mere symptom, or whether they’re actually two souls who just happen to coexist in an unusual way—Carly during the day, and Kaitlyn at night? After their parents’ death, the “sisters” are sent to Elmbridge, a boarding school in Somerset, but their stay there is chaotic, as they’re regularly sent back to Claydon, a psychiatric facility for teens. Under the guidance of Dr. Lansing, Carly has to accept that Kaitlyn is only an alter, meant to hold the painful memory of the night when her family was torn asunder. And yet… Doesn’t Kaitlyn exist in her own way, too? Is she a construct, or a real person? Doesn’t her diary reflect how real she is, just as real as Carly?

“The Dead House” explores this idea, mainly from Kaitlyn’s point of view, but also through Naida’s camera footage and through the group of friends gathered around her: Naida, Carly’s best friend during daytime; Scott, Naida’s boyfriend; and Brett and Ari. Naida’s peculiar in her own way, in that she comes from a family of priests, brought up within the faith of “Mala”, an Scottish mix of traditional witchcraft and voodoo (it doesn’t actually exist, and was created specifically for this story). And she may be the only one to accept that Kaitlyn/Carly is something special, something unique.

However, there’s something rotten in the Dead House: the sisters grow estranged, pills may do more harm than good, the doctor may not be so competent as she thinks she is, and Kaitlyn’s losing herself more and more in the maze of her own mind. Fascinating elements here, that I really liked reading about. Creept imagery, too, even though I’ve read more gory and morbid.

I’m torn when it comes to other aspects of this book, though. First, the Mala part, which sometimes felt strange and… “not Scottish”? There was something unsettling about the names, whether the spirits’ or even the people’s (“Naida” and “Haji” definitely don’t sound Scottish, and their French family-name hints more at New Orleans/voodoo surroundings than British ones). It would also have been interesting to see a real set of beliefs used here, rather than an imaginary one.

Then the romance, which I didn’t particularly care about, as the story could likely have stood on its own just as well with pure friendship and similar relationships. (But I’m very nitpicky when it comes to romance, so don’t mind me here.) The love interests looked really flat compared to Kaitlyn. In fact, most characters seemed flat, including Carly. Perhaps more insights into her own diary, into the post-its the sisters left for each other, would have helped to get to know here better. As it was, I didn’t really care about her either.

I was also confused about the actual time when the story was set: the diary and footage were recovered more than 20 years later, yet there’s no real sense of “the future”. It could’ve been 2015, and it would’ve been just the same. As for the ending, it felt incomplete, and I couldn’t decide whether the supernatural element was a good thing, or if I would’ve enjoyed the novel more if it had been purely a matter of psychological disorders.

As it was, I did enjoy “The Dead House”, and I give it 3.5 stars out of 5. On the other hand, I can’t help but think that something was missing—perhaps several things, even.

Yzabel / August 2, 2015

Review: Little Girls

Little Girls by Ronald Malfi

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Blurb:

When Laurie was a little girl, she was forbidden to enter the room at the top of the stairs. It was one of many rules imposed by her cold, distant father. Now, in a final act of desperation, her father has exorcised his demons. But when Laurie returns to claim the estate with her husband and ten-year-old daughter, it’s as if the past refuses to die. She feels it lurking in the broken moldings, sees it staring from an empty picture frame, hears it laughing in the moldy greenhouse deep in the woods…

At first, Laurie thinks she’s imagining things. But when she meets her daughter’s new playmate, Abigail, she can’t help but notice her uncanny resemblance to another little girl who used to live next door. Who died next door. With each passing day, Laurie’s uneasiness grows stronger, her thoughts more disturbing. Like her father, is she slowly losing her mind? Or is something truly unspeakable happening to those sweet little girls?

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

An idea that seemed creepy and interesting, but that just fell flat for me.

The beginning was rather slow, with descriptions that quickly became too tedious to go through, and often the dialogues felt useless and too on the “daily conversation” side. It worked at first, to establish the normalcy of the situation (as normal as it could be considering the circumstances); however, after a while, breakfast banter and the likes didn’t bring anything to the story, and were tiring to go through. I skimmed some of those parts, hoping to get to the next creepy bit, since creepy is what I wanted.

Too many of the characters’ actions and thoughts were told, rather than shown. Although it’s never easy when dealing with psychological aspects, as obviously a lot is internalised and cannot necessarily be “shown”, here I never felt close to the characters, as if I was meant to stand remote, and watch them without “feeling” anything for them—especially when flashbacks were concerned. At times, they would come out of nowhere, at length, and then mentioned again later to other characters, almost in passing: maybe it would’ve worked better for me if I could have read them at those moments, when they were more relevant, and not at some random point in the first chapters. When Laurie’s secrets started surfacing (what Sadie did to her, for instance), I couldn’t bother caring anymore. I could muster neither much interest nor compassion for Laurie or Ted—who had a knack also for coming up with his own crap when it wasn’t needed. (Seriously? You really had to tell ease your guilt by telling your wife, when clearly she was going through her father’s death and potentially getting crazy?)

The ending was frustrating. It hinted at a specific event, but without spelling it, and echoed in this way the fact that no answer was given as to whether Laurie was actually crazy or not. I still don’t know now if she imagined everything, was just stressed out, was haunted by an actual ghost, was plain crazy… In this regard, a more definite ending would have been more satisfying for me. It seemed to me that there wasn’t that much of a plot, and that the “ghost” didn’t do much for most of the story except just be there. Not to mention the twist about Laurie’s father, coming when I didn’t care anymore. I admit I finished reading because I expected an answer… and I never really got one.

I liked the setting, though: the creepy house with its old furniture, the well and the dilapidated glass house that were clearly a catastrophe in the making, the photographs of little girls kept in an album, what Laurie discovered in the garage. Still, it wasn’t enough to sell me on this novel. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 2, 2015

Review: Black-Eyed Susans

Black-Eyed Susans by Julia Heaberlin

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A girl’s memory lost in a field of wildflowers.
A killer still spreading seeds.

At seventeen, Tessa became famous for being the only surviving victim of a vicious serial killer. Her testimony put him on death row. Decades later, a mother herself, she receives a message from a monster who should be in prison. Now, as the execution date rapidly approaches, Tessa is forced to confront a chilling possibility: Did she help convict the wrong man?

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

4 stars. This is the first time I read anything by this author, and I admit that when I picked it among my ever-growing pile of ARCs to read, I didn’t even really remember what it was about. Which was probably for the best, as comparisons with other authors (such as often seen in blurbs) sometimes affect me in a negative way. You know, the “this is the next X”, or “X meets Y in this breathtaking novel.” So I was able, for once, to approach a story without remembering that. And it was good.

The novel deals with Tessa, the victim of a serial-killer, who survived and managed to send her would-be murderer to jail, where he’s waiting for the death penalty to be applied. Years later, now a mother with a bubbly, cheerful daughter of her own—a daughter who’s as carefree as the pre-killer Tessa—she is still haunted by those memories, or rather by the lack thereof: no matter what, she still can’t remember everything from her ordeal, and what she remembers of it may or may not be the truth. Moreover, Tessa’s starting to have second-thoughts: what if the man about to die was an innocent, and the real psychopath still out there?

“Black-Eyed Susans” deals with several interesting themes: psychologic and physical trauma (Tessa after the “event”), lies (what was told and untold when it came to the trial), forgiveness (the man on death row), fear (being potentially stalked by the actual killer, or even seeing him target the daughter)… There are very likeable characters, like Charlie, and others who sow constant doubts as to their loyalty and real intentions. There came a moment when it was difficult to tell what was only in Tessa’s mind, what was triggered by other people’s delusions, and what may have been actual happenings—although I still managed to narrow down my suspicions regarding to the killer to two, then one person relatively soon.

This book also has two things I really like: an unreliable narrator, and a narrative switching from present to past to present again. While the latter can be a deal-breaker for some readers, I personally like that technique. It made it tricky to determine where were the turning points, while at the same time giving hints. Some of those were just a tad bit heavy-handed, but… Overall I liked the story overall no matter what.

Yzabel / April 21, 2015

Review: Twisted

Twisted by Andrew E. Kaufman

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

The psychologist with a troubled past…

Dr. Christopher Kellan spends his days at Loveland Psychiatric Hospital, overseeing a unit known as Alpha Twelve, home to the most deranged and psychotic killers imaginable. His newest patient, Donny Ray Smith, is accused of murdering ten young girls and making their bodies disappear. But during his first encounter with Donny, Christopher finds something else unsettling: the man looks familiar.

The killer with a secret…

Donny Ray knows things about Christopher—things he couldn’t have possibly learned at Loveland. As the psychologist delves deeper into the mysterious patient’s case, Christopher’s life whirls out of control. The contours of his mind are rapidly losing shape, and his grasp on reality is slipping even faster. Is he going mad, or is that what Donny Ray wants him to think?

The terror that binds them…

In this taut psychological thriller from Andrew E. Kaufman, bestselling author of The Lion, the Lamb, the Hunted, a tormented man must face his fear and enter the mind of a killer to find the truth…even if it costs him his sanity.

Review:

(I received a free copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Easily a 3.5 stars, and even a 4 for the first two thirds. There are so many twists and turns that you don’t know anymore what’s true and what isn’t; who’s playing with whose mind (the author with the reader’s, for sure); whether the killer is a psychopath or a victim in need of medical help; whether the doctor himself is being manipulated by both past and patient, or by one of those only…

And I loved this. I really did. It was almost headache-inducing, but in a good way, making me form one hypothesis after the other, only to find out I had to discard it. Christopher does have reasons to worry, considering his own history with psychological disorders (his mother must definitely have been everything but a helping hand even before the tragedy), and it’s actually a wonder he could keep functioning and clutching at wanting to discover the truth, as well as protect his present family. At the same time, I liked how he approached the case with an open mind, considering Smith may be faking, yet trying nonetheless to see if there was something else behind this. His empathy, as well as the love he showed for his family, contrasted deeply with the lack thereof and the coldness of Loveland (what an ironic name). Because all things considered, all we see from this hospital is Alpha Twelve, not the rest. The rest might as well not exist.

On the other hand, I wasn’t so thrilled about the last part and the ending, hence my actual rating, lower than the one I had intended to give at first. The story had an emotional side I did like, but it also seemed like some kind of easy way out. While my earlier hypotheses were wrong, I think I may have started suspecting the final twist (or something very close to it) just a little too soon, and once it was confirmed, part of me couldn’t help but think “that’s it?” Everything before was twisted and freaky and indeed freaked me out in places, yet in the end, I didn’t feel as strongly for the story and the protagonist as I did previously. Perhaps also because the few chapters it took to get there felt like one too many?

I’d definitely recommend this novel—depending on the rating scale (since I’m posting this review on other websites as well), it’d be either a 3 or a 4, but it’d remain in the “I liked it” category. However, I felt a little let down by the last third and the ending, even though it wasn’t the predictable it could’ve been.

Yzabel / April 12, 2015

Review: Crash and Burn

Crash & Burn by Lisa Gardner

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

My name is Nicky Frank. Except, most likely, it isn’t.

Nicole Frank shouldn’t have been able to survive the car accident, much less crawl up the steep ravine. Not in the dark, not in the rain, not with her injuries. But one thought allows her to defy the odds and flag down help: Vero.

I’m looking for a little girl. I have to save her. Except, most likely, she doesn’t exist.

Sergeant Wyatt Foster is frustrated when even the search dogs can’t find any trace of the mysterious missing child. Until Nicky’s husband, Thomas, arrives with a host of shattering revelations: Nicole Frank suffers from a rare brain injury and the police shouldn’t trust anything she says.

My husband claims he’ll do anything to save me. Except, most likely, he can’t.

Who is Nicky Frank, and what happened the night her car sailed off the road? Was it a random accident or something more sinister given the woman’s lack of family and no close friends? The deeper Wyatt digs, the more concerned he becomes. Because it turns out, in the past few months, Nicky has suffered from more than one close accident. . . . In fact, it would appear someone very much wants her dead.

This is my life. Except, most likely, it’s not. Now watch me crash and burn…

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I didn’t know this author nor this series before reading Crash and Burn, so this was a discovery on all sides from me.

I’m not sure exactly how the novel ties into the “Tessa Leoni” books, though, as it seems Tessa plays a minor role, compared to the plot as a whole, so this is one thing I found a little unsettling (usually I’d expect the character to be central investigator?)—all the more because of the hints now and then to what she had done in the past and how it may come back to haunt her. On the other hand, having read the previous stories doesn’t seem to be a requirement here, as you can easily follow the main plot without that. In other words: not a problem for someone who doesn’t know the series, but it may be frustrating for someone expecting a “Tessa Leoni” book.

There are a lots of twists and turns in this novel, some a tad bit predictable, some others much less so. The inclusion of Nicky as very unreliable narrator, due to her brain injuries and the way she perceives reality, makes it difficult to know exactly where the story is going, and while this was frustrating at times, it also proved enjoyable, as I kept thinking “well, what do you know, I bet you’re up for a surprise”. Most of the time, I was, even though in retrospect the “holes” actually made sense, and made me feel like I should’ve seen them coming.

This book also deals with several dark themes, among which the “dollhouse”, what lengths someone is able to go to for the person they love—as twisted as these lengths may be—or, on the contrary, what acts a person is ready to commit for money. Those themes were somewhat uncomfortable, but still fascinating in their own morbid ways.

However, I did find it a little difficult to get into the story, because of some narrative lengths when it came to the “Vero” parts. I’m not sure all the “Vero wants to fly” and other similar sentences did a lot to deepen the mystery, and at the same time, they became redundant and annoying at times.

I’d give this book 3.5 stars. I wouldn’t mind reading more by this author later.

Yzabel / February 16, 2015

Review: The Room

The Room by Jonas Karlsson

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

A quirky and unsettling tale, of dark humour and strange realities, about a bureaucrat, an open plan office and a secret room…

The Authority looks favourably upon meticulousness, efficiency and ambition. Bjorn has all of this in spades, but it’s only in the Room that he can really shine. Unfortunately, his colleagues see things differently. In fact, they don’t even see the Room at all.

The Room is a short, sharp and fiendish fable in the tradition of Franz Kafka, Samuel Beckett and Charlie Kauffman. If you have ever toiled in an office, felt like the world was against you or questioned the nature of reality then this is the novel for you.

Review:

(I got a copy from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This was a pretty strange read in many ways, but also a compelling one. I kept wondering about the mysterious room, whether it existed or not, whether Björn (the main character) was crazy or not, whether what happened in the room actually happened or not… because no matter what, everything was always just a tad bit too ambiguous to allow me to draw clear conclusions. On the one hand, it was slightly frustrating. On the other, it was interesting.

Björn is clearly a narrator of the totally unreliable variety. He’s also not very likeable, in that he thinks himself better than the others, more skilled and more knowledgeable—and at times, he’s exactly that, while at others, he appears as useless, so once more, you’re kept wondering what to believe. I found him pretty interesting, though, if considered from a sociopathic viewpoint (this kind of character tends to grab my attention: they’re trainwrecks in the making, fascinating and repulsive all at once). He had a very clear, definite image of himself that may or may not match what other people perceived, yet in his mind, the fault was very seldom his; and when he questioned himself, I would wait for the other shoe to drop. In other words, he wasn’t “likeable” as a human being, but as a study of a certain type of mindset, he certainly was.

Daily life in the Authority/the Office turned out a quirky study as well. Various social behaviours, people lined in their little cubicles, procedures, work habits, workplace events and how one can quickly fit in or, on the contrary, commit a fatal faux-pas… It wasn’t nonsense bureaucracy at its finest, but it still lent the whole book a very peculiar atmosphere, with everybody stuck with everybody else (the only character who’s seen being home is Björn, and even then it doesn’t really feel like him, much more like “the place where to be when you’re not at work”). Everybody had their flaw and good sides, but knowing what they are was to be judged according to Björn’s descriptions and to how he perceived his colleagues’ reactions. Definitely a clash of realities here, as one can empathise with the other workers, with how they felt the newcomer was strange and hostile… and at the same time, Björn’s narrative still manages to sow doubt, considering that, all in all, what he wants is to find his place in his new job, as well as a career to aim for.

Commenting on the writing style itself is a bit difficult, since it’s a translation. I found it fluid and easy to follow, with short chapters that broke the flow just like Björn’s personality seemed to be broken, too (if this makes sense). They also felt like a kind of internal filing system used by the character to compartmentalise and gain control over an environment different from what he expected. This format worked fairly well for me, considering the kind of story told here.