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whatmeworry's reviews
1374 reviews
The Mothers by Sarah J. Naughton
dark
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.0
Read this and more crime, thriller, horror and pulp reviews on CriminOlly.com
‘The Mothers’ is the kind of book I normally avoid, so please bear that in mind when you read my allergic reaction to it below. This sub-genre, which I’ve seen termed ‘domestic noir’,is incredibly popular at the moment, if bookshop shelves and my Instagram feed are anything to go by . The easiest way to describe it is to say that it features crime stories based around the everyday lives of normal women. Put like that it quite appeals to me, and I can certainly think of many books and authors it fits that I have really liked. Natsuo Kirino, Megan Abbott, Shirley Jackson and so on. The problem I have with this modern wave of British (and all the ones I’ve read have been British) domestic noirs is that they feel like they’ve been pushed out by publishers to satisfy the market, rather than because they have real merit. That might feel like a strange thing to say given my love of pulp paperbacks, but being a pulp fan is really about separating the wheat from the chaff. ‘The Mothers’ is definitely chaff.
The central concept is one that’s typical to the form. A diverse group of women who have met through antenatal classes and maintained their friendship over the first years of their children’s lives find themselves embroiled in a mystery. The husband of one of the women has vanished, and a plucky young police woman is on hand to investigate. Things ramp up further when a further disappearance takes place. As is often the case with this kind of thing, the story is then told largely in flashback, with a gradual build up to the crimes.
This might have been an okay read but for three major problems. Most critically, at times the mystery element feels completely forgotten about and we’re treated instead to endless descriptions of coffee dates, drinks evenings and the boring minutiae of everyday life. I get that some of this is necessary to build the characters and establish the relationships between them, but god was it dull to read.
Secondly, the eventual plot lacks any credibility at all and has some major holes. The main detective misses some pretty massive things and doesn’t seem motivated at all to crack the case. In fact there is an ongoing joke between her and her boss that she only wants to solve the mystery so that she doesn’t have to attend a diversity seminar.
Which brings me to my final point. The book is kind of nasty. When I introduced Tolerance Warnings I expected to be using them for nasty old pulps from the 60s and 70s, not crime novels from 2020. Yet I’m adding two for this book. I won’t go into details for fear of spoilers, but there is a white middle-class vibe about the whole thing which left a bad taste in my mouth.
All in all then, this is one to avoid. There is a glimmer of light at the end, with an okay twist, but even that is problematic as it relies on one of the items I’m adding a Tolerance Warning for.
‘The Mothers’ is the kind of book I normally avoid, so please bear that in mind when you read my allergic reaction to it below. This sub-genre, which I’ve seen termed ‘domestic noir’,is incredibly popular at the moment, if bookshop shelves and my Instagram feed are anything to go by . The easiest way to describe it is to say that it features crime stories based around the everyday lives of normal women. Put like that it quite appeals to me, and I can certainly think of many books and authors it fits that I have really liked. Natsuo Kirino, Megan Abbott, Shirley Jackson and so on. The problem I have with this modern wave of British (and all the ones I’ve read have been British) domestic noirs is that they feel like they’ve been pushed out by publishers to satisfy the market, rather than because they have real merit. That might feel like a strange thing to say given my love of pulp paperbacks, but being a pulp fan is really about separating the wheat from the chaff. ‘The Mothers’ is definitely chaff.
The central concept is one that’s typical to the form. A diverse group of women who have met through antenatal classes and maintained their friendship over the first years of their children’s lives find themselves embroiled in a mystery. The husband of one of the women has vanished, and a plucky young police woman is on hand to investigate. Things ramp up further when a further disappearance takes place. As is often the case with this kind of thing, the story is then told largely in flashback, with a gradual build up to the crimes.
This might have been an okay read but for three major problems. Most critically, at times the mystery element feels completely forgotten about and we’re treated instead to endless descriptions of coffee dates, drinks evenings and the boring minutiae of everyday life. I get that some of this is necessary to build the characters and establish the relationships between them, but god was it dull to read.
Secondly, the eventual plot lacks any credibility at all and has some major holes. The main detective misses some pretty massive things and doesn’t seem motivated at all to crack the case. In fact there is an ongoing joke between her and her boss that she only wants to solve the mystery so that she doesn’t have to attend a diversity seminar.
Which brings me to my final point. The book is kind of nasty. When I introduced Tolerance Warnings I expected to be using them for nasty old pulps from the 60s and 70s, not crime novels from 2020. Yet I’m adding two for this book. I won’t go into details for fear of spoilers, but there is a white middle-class vibe about the whole thing which left a bad taste in my mouth.
All in all then, this is one to avoid. There is a glimmer of light at the end, with an okay twist, but even that is problematic as it relies on one of the items I’m adding a Tolerance Warning for.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood by Quentin Tarantino
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
informative
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Read this and more crime, thriller, horror and pulp reviews on CriminOlly.com
As a kid and teenager I read A LOT of movie novelisations. A lot of this was down to me inability to see the movies they were based on. In a world before VHS (in my house at least), missing something at the cinema meant missing it until it turned up on network TV. Plus there as the pesky fact that many of the films I really wanted to see were ones forbidden by my parents. Books, on the other hand, were always fair game. So whilst even the mildest horror films were out of reach, my local library had the books based on David Cronenberg’s fucked up body horror S&M nightmare ‘Videodrome’.
It would be fair to say then, that movie novelisations have given me a lot of reading pleasure over the years, but honestly, they’re generally companions to the movie they are based on, rather than independent works of art. Fans might rave about Alan Dean Foster’s ‘Alien’ adaptation, but the gulf between movie and book is far greater than book to movie conversions. No-one ever does ‘novels that were better than the films they were based on lists’.
So Quentin Tarantino’s novelisation of his film ‘Once Upon a Time in Hollywood’ is a strange thing. Partly because movie novelisations aren’t really a thing any more, conversely because he’s a big name and it’s his first novel, also because it’s really kind of brilliant.
What makes it so good? Well most importantly it turns out Tarantino can write. I expected the dialogue to be good (because duh) but in reality it’s all good. Easy to read, inventive and fun. The words flow beautifully off the page and the story and characters grip.
Secondly, it’s very different from the film. Don’t get me wrong, a lot is the same, but the focus is different. The Manson family are less of a big deal. Cliff is the main character (rather than then dual billing that Pitt and DiCaprio had in the film), and also more of a dick than he seemed with Pitt’s grinning face slapped on his character.
Thirdly, the prose form allows Tarantino to indulge his film nerd side even more than the movie did. There are long sections in the book that read like articles from film journals. Some might find that off putting, but I kind of loved it. Even more so than the film, it feels like his love letter to Hollywood. The shift in focus away from Manson allows him to indulge that side even more and the result is a more tender piece. It still has a satisfying story to it, but it’s one more rooted in characters than action. Weirdly (and perhaps brilliantly) it ends up feeling like the book came first.
As a kid and teenager I read A LOT of movie novelisations. A lot of this was down to me inability to see the movies they were based on. In a world before VHS (in my house at least), missing something at the cinema meant missing it until it turned up on network TV. Plus there as the pesky fact that many of the films I really wanted to see were ones forbidden by my parents. Books, on the other hand, were always fair game. So whilst even the mildest horror films were out of reach, my local library had the books based on David Cronenberg’s fucked up body horror S&M nightmare ‘Videodrome’.
It would be fair to say then, that movie novelisations have given me a lot of reading pleasure over the years, but honestly, they’re generally companions to the movie they are based on, rather than independent works of art. Fans might rave about Alan Dean Foster’s ‘Alien’ adaptation, but the gulf between movie and book is far greater than book to movie conversions. No-one ever does ‘novels that were better than the films they were based on lists’.
So Quentin Tarantino’s novelisation of his film ‘Once Upon a Time in Hollywood’ is a strange thing. Partly because movie novelisations aren’t really a thing any more, conversely because he’s a big name and it’s his first novel, also because it’s really kind of brilliant.
What makes it so good? Well most importantly it turns out Tarantino can write. I expected the dialogue to be good (because duh) but in reality it’s all good. Easy to read, inventive and fun. The words flow beautifully off the page and the story and characters grip.
Secondly, it’s very different from the film. Don’t get me wrong, a lot is the same, but the focus is different. The Manson family are less of a big deal. Cliff is the main character (rather than then dual billing that Pitt and DiCaprio had in the film), and also more of a dick than he seemed with Pitt’s grinning face slapped on his character.
Thirdly, the prose form allows Tarantino to indulge his film nerd side even more than the movie did. There are long sections in the book that read like articles from film journals. Some might find that off putting, but I kind of loved it. Even more so than the film, it feels like his love letter to Hollywood. The shift in focus away from Manson allows him to indulge that side even more and the result is a more tender piece. It still has a satisfying story to it, but it’s one more rooted in characters than action. Weirdly (and perhaps brilliantly) it ends up feeling like the book came first.
Red Screen by Stephen King
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Read this and more crime, thriller, horror and pulp reviews on CriminOlly.com
Red Screen is a short (like coffee break short) story from the grand old man of horror that’s available exclusively from Humble Bundle with all proceeds going to the American Civil Liberties Union. Readers can choose what they pay, although there is a minimum donation of 5 USD (or 3.61 GBP). That’s not exactly cheap for a short short story, but hey it’s all for a good cause and it’s the only way to read Red Screening, so if you’re a King completist it may be an easier decision.
As for the story itself, it’s good. Short, and hard to review without spoiling, but good. It takes of the form of a police detective interviewing a man accused of stabbing his wife to death; the interview taking an unexpected turn when it comes to the motive for the crime.
King’s short fiction is often (perhaps unsurprisingly) a lot leaner than his sometimes bloated novels. Red Screen is no exception, with the story quickly and effectively laid out. It very much has the feel of a Twilight Zone episode, right down to the fact that it’s mostly just two guys talking to each other in a plain room to keep production costs down. That feel extends to the cover, with it’s RKO Pictures vibe.
It’s intriguing, amusing and memorable, with the kind of ending that lingers. The prose it tight and the dialogue has a great crime fiction snappiness to it that helps bring the more mysterious elements of the story down to earth. Cynics might say that the author rattled it off in an afternoon to do his bit for the ACLU, but many authors say that writing good shorts is harder than writing novels. King is a master of the art, and this particular example of his bite sized fiction is up there with the better entries in his traditionally published collections. 5 bucks might be a lot, but you know you want to.
Red Screen is a short (like coffee break short) story from the grand old man of horror that’s available exclusively from Humble Bundle with all proceeds going to the American Civil Liberties Union. Readers can choose what they pay, although there is a minimum donation of 5 USD (or 3.61 GBP). That’s not exactly cheap for a short short story, but hey it’s all for a good cause and it’s the only way to read Red Screening, so if you’re a King completist it may be an easier decision.
As for the story itself, it’s good. Short, and hard to review without spoiling, but good. It takes of the form of a police detective interviewing a man accused of stabbing his wife to death; the interview taking an unexpected turn when it comes to the motive for the crime.
King’s short fiction is often (perhaps unsurprisingly) a lot leaner than his sometimes bloated novels. Red Screen is no exception, with the story quickly and effectively laid out. It very much has the feel of a Twilight Zone episode, right down to the fact that it’s mostly just two guys talking to each other in a plain room to keep production costs down. That feel extends to the cover, with it’s RKO Pictures vibe.
It’s intriguing, amusing and memorable, with the kind of ending that lingers. The prose it tight and the dialogue has a great crime fiction snappiness to it that helps bring the more mysterious elements of the story down to earth. Cynics might say that the author rattled it off in an afternoon to do his bit for the ACLU, but many authors say that writing good shorts is harder than writing novels. King is a master of the art, and this particular example of his bite sized fiction is up there with the better entries in his traditionally published collections. 5 bucks might be a lot, but you know you want to.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Domestic abuse
Maths on the Back of an Envelope: Clever ways to (roughly) calculate anything by Rob Eastaway
informative
medium-paced
3.0
The American Gun Mystery by Ellery Queen
lighthearted
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
Read this and more crime, thriller, horror and pulp reviews on CriminOlly.com
This is the first Ellery Queen book I’ve read. He was an author I was aware of, perhaps mostly because of the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine which published short stories by many of the great American crime writers, but who I didn’t know much about. In fact I didn’t even know that Queen was a pseudonym used by two cousins, Frederic Dannay and Manfred Bennington Lee. Ellery Queen is, intriguingly, also the name of the detective.
This is the sixth of the series, published in this new edition with a new introduction from publisher Otto Penzler. Penzler hails Queen as the giant of the inter war Golden Age of American mystery writing and a peer of the likes of Agatha Christie. I’m not entirely convinced by that comparison, but I did enjoy the puzzle that Dannay and Lee laid out in The American Gun Mystery.
The hallmark of this type of mystery is a crime early on that seems impossible to solve. That’s certainly the case here, with Buck Horne, noted star of numerous silent westerns, shot dead on his horse as he takes part in the dramatic opening of a new rodeo show along with 40 other riders. The mystery lies in the fact that he has been shot dead with a gun that cannot then be found and which is of a markedly different type to the many others surround Buck at the time of his death.
It’s an engaging conundrum, and the solution, when it is laid out by Queen at the end is credible if slightly unlikely. Crucially, the clues to solve it were, with the benefit of hindsight, all there in the text, that being the test of a so-called ‘fair play’ mystery.
For a book that is nearly 90 years old it is all very readable, although the middle section did drag a bit, being full of the kind of red herrings that are essential to this kind of tale. The dialogue is definitely on the stifled side and Queen himself is far from likeable. When this kind of genius detective character is done well it can work (think Holmes or Poirot) but here I found myself at times hoping that Queen wouldn’t solve the crime because he was such an arrogant dick. Even more problematic was the treatment of Djuna, a Romany boy whom Queen has adopted and “civilised”. It’s the kind of casual racism that was common in the 1930s, and which leaves a bad taste in the mouth today. A more palatable anachronism is the use of the word Brobdingnagian, which I’ve never seen outside of the Lemony Snickets books.
Overall this is a fun vintage read. The mystery is engaging and the solution amusing, even if the telling of it leaves a little to be desired. If I were rating them separately I’d probably give the mystery 4 stars and the writing 2. I’ll leave it up to you to decide which you value more.
This is the first Ellery Queen book I’ve read. He was an author I was aware of, perhaps mostly because of the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine which published short stories by many of the great American crime writers, but who I didn’t know much about. In fact I didn’t even know that Queen was a pseudonym used by two cousins, Frederic Dannay and Manfred Bennington Lee. Ellery Queen is, intriguingly, also the name of the detective.
This is the sixth of the series, published in this new edition with a new introduction from publisher Otto Penzler. Penzler hails Queen as the giant of the inter war Golden Age of American mystery writing and a peer of the likes of Agatha Christie. I’m not entirely convinced by that comparison, but I did enjoy the puzzle that Dannay and Lee laid out in The American Gun Mystery.
The hallmark of this type of mystery is a crime early on that seems impossible to solve. That’s certainly the case here, with Buck Horne, noted star of numerous silent westerns, shot dead on his horse as he takes part in the dramatic opening of a new rodeo show along with 40 other riders. The mystery lies in the fact that he has been shot dead with a gun that cannot then be found and which is of a markedly different type to the many others surround Buck at the time of his death.
It’s an engaging conundrum, and the solution, when it is laid out by Queen at the end is credible if slightly unlikely. Crucially, the clues to solve it were, with the benefit of hindsight, all there in the text, that being the test of a so-called ‘fair play’ mystery.
For a book that is nearly 90 years old it is all very readable, although the middle section did drag a bit, being full of the kind of red herrings that are essential to this kind of tale. The dialogue is definitely on the stifled side and Queen himself is far from likeable. When this kind of genius detective character is done well it can work (think Holmes or Poirot) but here I found myself at times hoping that Queen wouldn’t solve the crime because he was such an arrogant dick. Even more problematic was the treatment of Djuna, a Romany boy whom Queen has adopted and “civilised”. It’s the kind of casual racism that was common in the 1930s, and which leaves a bad taste in the mouth today. A more palatable anachronism is the use of the word Brobdingnagian, which I’ve never seen outside of the Lemony Snickets books.
Overall this is a fun vintage read. The mystery is engaging and the solution amusing, even if the telling of it leaves a little to be desired. If I were rating them separately I’d probably give the mystery 4 stars and the writing 2. I’ll leave it up to you to decide which you value more.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Racism
My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Read this and more crime, thriller, horror and pulp reviews on CriminOlly.com
There have been at least two other recent horror novels about slasher films. The James Patterson-lite The Final Girls by Riley Sagar, the criminally disappointing The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix (review here). In much the same way as film directors in the 80s suddenly rediscovered the monster movies of the 50s (The Thing, The Blob, Invaders from Mars, etc), it feels like sufficient time has passed for these decades old films to be re-invented by the modern creators who grew up with them. Stephen Graham Jones’s My Heart is a Chainsaw joins this mini-wave and the good news is that it’s far better than either of the books that preceded it. In fact it’s quite brilliant.
Set in 2015 (for reasons that become clear in the afterword), it follows slasher obsessed Jade. A 17-year old of mixed Native American/European heritage who struggles to find happiness and purpose in the small rural American town, a place about to be taken over by the millionaires who are building a secluded settlement nearby. Following the discovery of the body of a tourist, Jade’s slasher movie conspiracy theories seem to be coming true as locals start to die and a new girl she identifies as a final girl starts at her high school.
As in his excellent, The Only Good Indians, Jones mixes commentary on the plight of America’s rural poor with out and out horror. My Heart is a Chainsaw has an easier narrative style than the more complex earlier book. The plot moves like a freight train as Jade finds her suspicions ignored by the local sheriff and her teachers, even as the body count rises. The sense of the helplessness of teens in the face of dismissive adults is palpable and adds wonderfully to the overall tension. Jones also does a fantastic job of keeping the reader guessing as to the credibility of Jade’s theories.
Neurotic and misunderstood, Jade is a wonderful protagonist, one who it’s impossible not to root for, even when you don’t know whether to believe her. Her pain and frustration seep from the page and her determination to do what she believes is right, even when the cost to her is great, feels almost inspirational.
Best of all for horror fans, Jade’s dissection of slasher lore and constant references to classic movies is beautifully woven into the tale. In other books this can feel like a gimmick, here it works perfectly, drawing the reader into Jade’s world. What’s more, Jones’s knowledge of the sub-genre is impressive to say the least, meaning this may be the best ever blending of fiction and movie criticism.
It’s been a long time since a horror novel as fresh, readable and powerful as My Heart is a Chainsaw has come along. This is the book The Final Girl Support Group wanted to be. It intelligently examines and plays with the genre without ever descending into naval gazing, it’s gripping, gory and fun from page one, and in Jade it has a truly memorable, believable heroine.
There have been at least two other recent horror novels about slasher films. The James Patterson-lite The Final Girls by Riley Sagar, the criminally disappointing The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix (review here). In much the same way as film directors in the 80s suddenly rediscovered the monster movies of the 50s (The Thing, The Blob, Invaders from Mars, etc), it feels like sufficient time has passed for these decades old films to be re-invented by the modern creators who grew up with them. Stephen Graham Jones’s My Heart is a Chainsaw joins this mini-wave and the good news is that it’s far better than either of the books that preceded it. In fact it’s quite brilliant.
Set in 2015 (for reasons that become clear in the afterword), it follows slasher obsessed Jade. A 17-year old of mixed Native American/European heritage who struggles to find happiness and purpose in the small rural American town, a place about to be taken over by the millionaires who are building a secluded settlement nearby. Following the discovery of the body of a tourist, Jade’s slasher movie conspiracy theories seem to be coming true as locals start to die and a new girl she identifies as a final girl starts at her high school.
As in his excellent, The Only Good Indians, Jones mixes commentary on the plight of America’s rural poor with out and out horror. My Heart is a Chainsaw has an easier narrative style than the more complex earlier book. The plot moves like a freight train as Jade finds her suspicions ignored by the local sheriff and her teachers, even as the body count rises. The sense of the helplessness of teens in the face of dismissive adults is palpable and adds wonderfully to the overall tension. Jones also does a fantastic job of keeping the reader guessing as to the credibility of Jade’s theories.
Neurotic and misunderstood, Jade is a wonderful protagonist, one who it’s impossible not to root for, even when you don’t know whether to believe her. Her pain and frustration seep from the page and her determination to do what she believes is right, even when the cost to her is great, feels almost inspirational.
Best of all for horror fans, Jade’s dissection of slasher lore and constant references to classic movies is beautifully woven into the tale. In other books this can feel like a gimmick, here it works perfectly, drawing the reader into Jade’s world. What’s more, Jones’s knowledge of the sub-genre is impressive to say the least, meaning this may be the best ever blending of fiction and movie criticism.
It’s been a long time since a horror novel as fresh, readable and powerful as My Heart is a Chainsaw has come along. This is the book The Final Girl Support Group wanted to be. It intelligently examines and plays with the genre without ever descending into naval gazing, it’s gripping, gory and fun from page one, and in Jade it has a truly memorable, believable heroine.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Child abuse, Self harm, and Suicide attempt
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie
adventurous
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
New York Dead by Stuart Woods
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia
Without Fail by Lee Child
adventurous
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
How to Mars by David Ebenbach
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0