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theirresponsiblereader's Reviews (607)
adventurous
funny
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
“I’m not looking for a séance, Ms. Foley. I’m just telling you that I know there’s more to the world than what we can always see right in front of us. And I believe you when you tell me that you had a premonition, or a bad feeling, or a bad certainty—if that’s more like it. I believe you saved my life. Saved me a hell of a story and some smoke inhalation, that’s for damn sure. And now I want to hire you. Not to book any travel, and not to talk to my dead mother. I’ve got a case I’ve been beating my head against for a couple of years, and I’m all out of leads. I’m ready to try anything, which means I’m willing to try a psychic, Ms. Foley, I want you to help me solve a murder.”
What’s Grave Reservations About?
It’s pretty much about that quotation—Leda Foley is a travel agent* and self-described “inconsistent psychic.” Her intuition (or whatever you want to call it) leads her into changing the flight of a Seattle PD detective which prevents him from ending up in a plane that skidded off the runway during takeoff. Now he’s back in Seattle, grateful, and wants to use Leda to help him get a break on a cold case. Det. Grady isn’t that convinced this is going to work (Leda’s sure it won’t), but he doesn’t know what else to try.
* I’m as surprised as you to learn they still exist.
She agrees—not just because her agency is struggling and she needs pretty much any money she can earn, but because she wants to get on Det. Grady’s good side, because she wants his help on a cold case of her own—her fiancé was murdered and the police got nowhere with that investigation.
So, Leda, her bartender best friend, and Detective Gracy set out to see if her psychic abilities are at least a little more consistent than she thinks.
Leda’s Other Side Hustle
Leda’s had a large number of day jobs, none of which worked out for long. Her travel agency, Foley’s Far-Fetched Flights of Fancy, is an effort to make it on her own—and it’s pretty shaky. Leda also wants to strengthen and improve her psychic skills, so she gets on stage at a local bar for what she calls klairvoyant karaoke, but the bar’s owner prefers calling her a psychic psongstress.
Basically, she gets on stage, holds an object given to her by an audience member, and uses the impressions her abilities give her about the owner to sing a song that will be meaningful to the owner. In exchange, she gets free drinks. She’s gaining a little notoriety from this and the bar is having its most successful nights ever.
Tricky Tonal Balancing Act
This is not your typical murder mystery, that’s probably pretty clear. In her acknowledgments, Priest says she was aiming at “something lighter and funnier than my usual fare.” She hit what she aimed for. It’s comedic (sometimes very comedic), but not at a goofball level. It’s closer to Castle at its best. Or to stick to novel comparisons, think The Spellman Files (especially the slightly more serious last couple), Max Wirestone’s Dahlia Moss books or David Ahern’s Madam Tulip books. The latter is the best comparison (not just because Leda’s psychic abilities made me think of Derry more than a few times), but Leda’s friends remind me of Derry’s—but I threw in the others because too few people know anything about Madam Tulip.
Back to Grave Reservations—Priest walks the tightrope between too silly for a mystery and too serious for a story about a travel agent/inconsistent psychic–—which cannot be anywhere as easy as she makes it look. With all of the above comparisons, I occasionally wasn’t sure about the consistency of the tone (or the appropriateness of it when the creators weren’t on the top of their game). Priest didn’t have that problem at all. Which is a tribute to her skill.
So, what did I think about Grave Reservations?
I don’t have a lot to say here–it’s really good. Priest surrounds Leda and Det. Grady with a bunch of characters that bring the comedy on the personal side and suspects, victims, and witnesses that keep the serious side of the story working. Either set of characters make this a fun read—put them together and you have something special.
The mystery itself was pretty good—and having Leda’s abilities providing the leaps of logic that allow Grady to start looking in the right places is a great idea. Priest doesn’t have to “play fair” like most mystery novelists and she can just wave the Psychic ex Machina wand to get her out of tricky places.
Grave Reservations is a great bit of light escapist reading—and the way Priest set it up for a series suggests that we’ll be able to escape into this world for a little while longer. And we all could use something like that right now, can’t we?
adventurous
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
What’s Better Off Dead About?
Continuing the westward journey he started back in Past Tense, Reacher finds himself about as close to the US/Mexican border as you can get in one of the smallest towns we’ve seen him in.
He encounters an Army vet hunting for her twin—who has gotten himself mixed up with some sort of smuggling operation—that might be getting into something more serious. Michaela Fenton gets Reacher to help out with a scheme to put her face-to-face with the head of the operation.
Things go south, and before you know it, it’s Reacher against this shadowy organization trying to save the Fenton twins and put an end to a plot that’s either an act of political protest or deadly attack (Reacher’s assuming the latter).
That doesn’t make a lot of sense—but trust me, something as convoluted as this plot doesn’t make it easy to summarize in a coherent fashion.
So, what did I think about Better Off Dead?
I strongly considered listing all my problems with this—but why bother? Venting my spleen might make me feel better, but I don’t want to spend the energy on it.
Let me try to be concise—it was a giant, implausible, mess. The original plan that Reacher and Fenton come up with to take down the bad guy makes every single machine that Rube Goldberg drew seem efficient and straightforward. I couldn’t believe that Reacher would sign on to it—and even after he started voicing concerns, he still went along with it. Reacher’s known for his brawn, but his brain has always been—up to this point, anyway–just as important (if not more so). This was just dumb.
I was annoyed very early on, texting a friend, “Worst.Reacher.Ever.” Although I noted that the Child brothers had 250 or so pages to make me change my mind. I really wanted them to. But man, those short stories about pre-teen/teenager Reacher in New York City or Okinawa look really good to me now.
The least troublesome part for me was the voice—Lee Child tended toward the third-person, but occasionally used first to great effect. This time, first-person didn’t help matter—and while I haven’t read any readers complain about it, a lot of what I have seen people complain about I think would’ve worked if it was in the third-person (and/or wouldn’t have been part of a third-person narration).
There were some good scenes, a handful of chapters that worked for me, in fact.* But they were a distinct minority. Still, in trying to be fair, I’d say if this was a thriller by a relative newcomer? I’d be more positive about it (not much more, but more). But Andrew Child (née Grant) has a dozen novels under his belt and Lee Child has twice that—also this is a Jack Reacher novel. There are standards that must be upheld.
*I’d planned on talking about some of those, but this post is longer than I’d intended it to be already, so let’s leave it at “the whole thing wasn’t a dumpster fire.”
I knew that there’s be some growing pains as Lee backed off to let Andrew take over, but this was worse than that. The Sentinel wasn’t perfect, but it was something to work from. Better Off Dead was a major setback and will take some work to recover from. Sadly, I bet that no one’s going to make Andrew buckle down and do that work (please, please, someone prove me wrong).
I walked away from the interview I heard with them a few weeks ago with the impression that Andrew doesn’t typically work with the “no outline” approach of Lee—maybe if he didn’t try to ape that style, he’d be better off. There were a few times in my notes I wondered if they’d changed their minds about where the plot was going.
Give this one a pass—go back and read/reread 61 Hours, Nothing to Lose, Personal, or…you know what? Anything from The Midnight Line or earlier. It’ll be time better spent.
emotional
funny
inspiring
mysterious
tense
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
What’s OCDaniel About?
I found myself saying way too much about this book—I’ve taken two attempts at this part of the post, and each gets too detailed. It’s hard to stop talking about this, apparently.
So let me fall back on the tried-but-true (albeit lazy) method of borrowing the description from the Publisher’s website:
Daniel is the back-up punter for the Erie Hills Elephants. Which really means he’s the water boy. He spends football practice perfectly arranging water cups—and hoping no one notices. Actually, he spends most of his time hoping no one notices his strange habits—he calls them Zaps: avoiding writing the number four, for example, or flipping a light switch on and off dozens of times over. He hopes no one notices that he’s crazy, especially his best friend Max, and Raya, the prettiest girl in school. His life gets weirder when another girl at school, who is unkindly nicknamed Psycho Sara, notices him for the first time. She doesn’t just notice him: she seems to peer through him.
Then Daniel gets a note: “I need your help,” it says, signed, Fellow Star Child—whatever that means. And suddenly Daniel, a total no one at school, is swept up in a mystery that might change everything for him.
OCD Portrayal
I didn’t note how far into the novel we are before someone uses either “OCD” or “Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder,” but I’d be willing to guess it’s the latter third. Obviously, for anyone who even glanced at the title, they know what’s going on—but this novel isn’t about OCD per se.
It’s a novel about a kid who doesn’t understand himself, who doesn’t realize what’s going on with his brain, and who’s scared to talk to anyone about it. He loves his parents—and there’s no reason to think they wouldn’t be supportive and would help him to find the tools he needs. But he doesn’t want to be “weird,” he doesn’t really want to admit to it to anyone other than himself.
Sarah has her own struggles and isn’t afraid to let Daniel see them—and she sees his at least as clearly as Daniel’s. So he can open up to her.
This is based on King’s own experiences, his own OCD, practically ensuring that it’s a sensitive and sympathetic portrayal. At the same time, it does as good a job as any that I’ve come across in communicating what it’s like to those who’ve never experienced it. I’d recommend it to anyone in whatever age range just for that alone.
That doesn’t mean that King doesn’t have some fun with it, he takes opportunities for small and large comedic moments brought on by Daniel’s OCD. But it’s never mean-spirited, and the reader laughs while feeling sympathy (maybe even empathy).
A Few Thoughts on the Narration
De Ocampo is a pretty versatile narrator—I’ve previously listened to his work on Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Tropper’s This is Where I Leave You. He’s able to hit all the right notes here—the comedy, the uncertainty, the tension—Daniel’s “zap”s—the whole kit and caboodle.
I was pretty impressed—moreso when I looked him up and saw that I’d heard his work before. He did a good job here and did so in a way that didn’t make me think of the others I’d heard.
So, what did I think about OCDaniel?
I thought the whole mystery thing was a bit far-fetched, especially the way it resolved. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun—and the rest of the novel more than made up for the bits of the story that induced a bit of eye-rolling.
It was an entertaining and enlightening novel—great for the upper MG/lower YA crowd, but a solid enough work for older audiences, too.
Give this a read, or a listen—you’ll be glad you did.
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
What’s The Last Time She Died About?
I’m feeling pretty paranoid about what I’m going to write in this post, I don’t want to give anything away. It’d be really easy to do with this one, so I’ll just borrow this from Sharp’s website:
She came back on the day of her father’s funeral, ten years after she vanished. But she can’t be who she says she is…
When Blake disappeared as a teenager, on a cold dark night, her father never reported her missing. She is presumed dead.
Now, ten years later, a young woman with white-blonde hair sits comfortably in the family living room and smiles at the shocked faces around her.
“Don’t you recognise me?” she says. “I’m Blake.”
Detective John Byron isn’t sure whether she’s telling the truth. But as he investigates, he soon realises no one is happy to see her.
And the people who should be welcoming her back with open arms know she can’t be Blake. Because they killed her the night she vanished…
Didn’t they?
Lily
‘I’m Lily. Does this mean you’re sort of my sister? I’ve always wanted a sister. Well, I really wanted a kitten, but a sister would be nearly as good.’
At the root of everything in this novel are some deep and dark secrets—many of which will be brought out of the shadows–but there are several moments of light throughout. The brightest beam of light comes from Gideon Fitzroy’s twelve-year-old step-daughter, Lily.
She’s adorable—it jumps off of the page. She feels neglected by her mother and uncle, her older brother’s at that stage of adolescence where the last thing he wants to do is spend time with his little sister. So the prospect of having a brand-new, adult, sister? Lily’s awed by her. And then when Blake’s friendly with her, spends time with her? Lily’s devoted.
She doesn’t understand what’s going on—and is largely kept in the dark by her family. But she’s Blake’s biggest fan, no matter what that might mean for her family. There’s a sweetness to her that makes her future and welfare as important to the reader (at least this one) as Blake’s and Byron’s.
Byron +
Byron, considered solely, is an intriguing character—and I have a note or two about wanting to write about his psychology a bit. But I don’t think we have quite enough information yet to do the deep(ish) dive that I want to. Sure, not having that information is part of what makes him intriguing.
Where we really learn about him is from other characters and from his interactions with others. For example, PC Jane Hudson knew him as a trainee, and gained certain impressions of him, and shares them with her superiors, predecessor, and others (including the reader).
But it’s in his interactions with others that you really get to like him. With the pub’s skittish cleaner. He’s great at winning her over and getting her to talk. He’s got this wonderful banter with his superior that speaks to a long association/friendship and liked their conversations enough that I’d pay for a novella featuring them just meeting for tea and chatting. It’s probably there that I decided that I liked him as a person.
But in his conversations and interactions with Blake (and the way they both respond after each encounter) is where he really stands out. The two “get” each other in a way that just makes you want to read more, just to watch their verbal dance (and the choreography of what they don’t say is just as agile). We’re talking Poe and Tilly, Spenser and Hawk, Cormoran and Robin levels of chemistry here. It’s almost like there should be a series based on the pair.
Oh, wait…
So, what did I think about The Last Time She Died?
I’ve been reading Sharp’s Charlie Fox for over a decade, but I hadn’t read anything else by her. I’ve always suspected that was an error in judgment, and this certainly suggests that I’m right.
How many times since Martin Guerre* has the story of someone presumed dead come back and had to prove they weren’t an impostor? How many times have we read about a police detective with emotional and physical scars doing some off the books work because they can’t do anything else? How many stories of small-town secrets being exposed have been written? How many…well, you get the idea. This novel is full of ideas we’ve all seen more times than we can count. But Sharp shuffles them, remixes them, and presents them to the readers in a way that could almost convince you that you’ve never read/seen anything like it before.
* Sure. before that story, too.
How good is Sharp? The series is called Blake & Byron Thrillers—and yet you will wonder on more than one occasion if she’s actually Blake. And you may keep wondering after you finish the book.
So many of the characters really popped and will linger in the back of my mind for quite a while. I’m already impatient about getting answers to how Blake and Bryson will have another adventure together. I wouldn’t mind an update on some of the other characters, either—although it appears that Bryson’s new job will be taking him to a different part of the country.
The Last Time She Died is entertaining, twisty, tense, with just enough wit to keep you grinning. This is going to be a series to watch, readers, get started now.
emotional
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
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s A Christmas Carol: A Signature Performance by Tim Curry About?
Yeah, just kidding. We all know.
So, what did I think about A Christmas Carol: A Signature Performance by Tim Curry?
Really, all this post needs to be is: “Tim Curry read A Christmas Carol” and include a link to purchase. What else do you need? That’s pretty much all I needed to read from this post by Bookstooge.
But let me say something about the narration—it’s good, it’s really good. It’s also not what I expected, at least not fully.
I think I went into it anticipating an almost-over-the-top performance, whatever the audio-equivalent of a scenery-chewing showcase of Tim Curry excess. Which would have been delightful, make no mistake. Curry’s got one of those voices that would’ve lent itself to such a thing and I’d have made it an annual listen.
But no, Curry’s a pro. And he shows that here. He treats the material with respect and gives just the right emotional weight, sentimentality, personality, and life that the text and characters call for.
One line reading, in particular, made me chuckle (and came as close to what I anticipated as anything does):
“You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits.”
Scrooge’s countenance fell almost as low as the Ghost’s had done.
“Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?” he demanded, in a faltering voice.
“It is.”
“I—I think I’d rather not,” said Scrooge.
I chuckled at that last line and went back to listen to it a couple of times.
This is just what I needed—did it make my heart grow three sizes that day? Nope. Too much of that moralism-disguised-as-Christianity so typical of Dickens and his era, this work will never have that effect on me. But it’s a nice dollop of holiday spirit, and sure to entertain anyone who gives it a listen.
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
slow-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
A new DI has been named at King’s Lake—and it’s a person we’ve run into before—and it’s a bridge too far for DC Smith. He’s been thinking about retiring since the first book, and that thought’s been getting louder. He’d probably stick it out for a little longer if not for this new boss, but…so he turns in his papers and starts to prepare to leave.
But first, there’s a murder to solve. Smith sets out for what’s likely the last time with his team and their new DI to solve the case of a suspected figure in organized crime being murdered in a small tourist town.
Everyone tries to treat this as just a typical investigation, but the specter of Smith’s retirement looms over everything. This is Smith’s last chance to impart his training on his team—Chris Waters in particular. Waters is doing his best to prove to his mentor that he’s ready to fly solo (all the while trying to soak up anything he can). Smith’s also busy trying to put his team in the best positions for their career—even if their immediate future is under the DI that led him to resign.
Also, he should probably figure out what he’s going to do when he doesn’t have a job anymore.
So, what did I think about Time and Tide?
So, I know there are more books in the series, which takes a little sting out of it, but I wasn’t ready for Smith to leave Kings Lake.
I thought the story meandered a bit more than I’m used to, but it worked. It felt appropriate for the time. It’s not just Smith’s upcoming retirement, there’s a lot about changing of times, former careers/lives, the past defining people, and so on. It’s probably the most obvious that Grainger’s been about matching the themes of the plotlines, but I’m not going to complain.
Like I said, I know there are more books to come in the series, so it’s not an ending—or really the beginning of the end—it’s a transition novel. Things are going to change, and while I’m not necessarily a fan of change, I’m betting that Grainger’s going to pull it off. He’s doing so already.
On top of that, we get the typical wise and witty Smith with his very capable team unearthing secrets, and making sure the truth is revealed. Narrated by the man who continues to make these characters come to life and elevates the already well-written text. You really can’t go wrong with this series.
lighthearted
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
The Intervening Year
So, it’s been a year since The Case of the Missing Firefly. Colin and Adam have seemingly retired from the jobs they never really had. They haven’t been in the wrong place at the right time to stumble upon a corpse or haven’t been recruited by loved ones frustrated by the police’s inaction, so they’ve been able to focus on things like Adam’s business and relationship, Colin’s job, and their ongoing PlayStation FIFA rivalry.
We’re given a little nugget about part of the reason for their inactivity:
After a number of embarrassing blunders, there was an investigation into the Stonebridge police force, which resulted in them taking crimes in the town a bit more seriously. This meant that the kinds of miscarriages and oversights that Adam and he had looked into had reduced in number, rendering the amateur detective duo obsolete.
I think it’s charming that protests, marches, and scandal are what lead to changes/potential changes in policing in series like Goldberg’s Eve Ronin or Connelly’s Renée Ballard, in Stonebridge’s universe, it takes a couple of guys who’ve spent too much time watching Sherlock to get the police in line. Of course, this is also a town where the “bad side” is characterized by “vegan food stores and hippy clothing bazaars.” If I can’t move to Stars Hollow, CT, maybe I can emigrate to Stonebridge…
Thankfully, in the Real World, Chris McDonald had plans for the duo, so their retirement is short-lived:
What’s Mistletoe and Crime About?
After watching a cheesy Holiday Rom-Com at the theater (and, no, Adam, did not cry at the ending, thank you very much), Adam and Helena take a shortcut through an alley to get to the car. Along the way, they come across an obviously dead body. Adam’s well-documented queasiness around blood rears its head (not before his subconscious notices something is wrong) while Helena’s nurse-reflexes lead her to snap a quick picture of the scene and before jumping to ensure that the man doesn’t need assistance.
The police quickly decide the homeless man—a well-known Stonebridge fixture—was inebriated, slipped on the snowy ground, and died of the resulting injury.
A man approaches Adam and Colin soon after this asking the duo to look into the death—his testimony isn’t unimpeachable, but it’s enough to move them into looking into things. The man’s claim is buttressed by the photo Helena took which shows a footprint suggesting that someone left the scene after the man was on the ground. So we’re off to the races…
The Boys Are Growing Up
In the year away, Adam and Colin have continued to mature. The impression I had during The Curious Dispatch of Daniel Costello was that these two would be the stereotypical 20-somethings who still lived with their mothers, jumping from entry-level gig to entry-level gig for quite a while (even if Colin seemed on the cusp of leaving that description behind when we meet him). But almost immediately, McDonald used their success as a catalyst for personal growth. One advantage of having them take a year off is that we can see the result of twelve months of incremental growth.
After a year away, Adam’s business has established itself pretty well. He’s doing well enough that at this time of year when there’s not a lawn to be cared for, he’s able to not have to worry about money. His relationship is going well enough that he and Colin don’t spend that much time together, and most of their gaming is done online.
Colin’s doing very well at his job and has been acting as a manager. He’s realizing that it’s time he finds a good relationship and is looking.
So, what did I think about Mistletoe and Crime?
No surprise here—I liked it. I liked it a lot. The first thing I did yesterday was to download it so I could spend my spare time in Stonebridge—which made for a perfectly entertaining day.
In addition to the typical Stonebridge fun, McDonald takes full advantage of the seasonal setting. There are any number of nice little holiday touches and jokes, for example: have we known the mayor’s name before? If not, it’s the perfect subtle joke. If we have had it before, I’ve fallen into the classic English major blunder of reading too much into things.
But more than just for fun, McDonald is able to tap into the spirit of the season—families and friends coming together for festive fun, the general bonhomie brought on by the traditions, not to mention the consumer-madness too-often seen in department stores.
This is the fifth novella in this series that I’ve talked about this year—I don’t have a fresh way to express my appreciation of them. It’d help me as a blogger if McDonald would stumble a couple of times with this series so that I’d have the opportunity to talk about him returning to form after wondering if the magic was gone. But no, he has to be consistently good so that I sound like a broken record.
A clever mystery, characters that display a good amount of development, situations that are appropriately amusing/sweet/tense, and the kind of prose that welcomes you in and makes you feel at home. In other words, a cozy—a well-written and executed one.
As is to be expected, McDonald delivers, you’re missing out if you don’t join in the fun (this would be a fine jumping-on point, I should add—but go back to the beginning while you’re at it)!
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
What’s Dr. Rick Will See You Now About?
I don’t know if my out-of-the-U.S. readers will have been exposed to these commercials, but I assume that everyone in the U.S. has seen these advertisements from Progressive Insurance–Dr. Rick is an expert in “parentamorphisis,” and advises his clients on how to beat it.
What is parentamorphisis? That’s when doing things like owning your first home turns you into your parents and gets you started doing things like making dad jokes, talking too much about parking, giving unsolicited advice at a hardware store, printing out directions for driving, and so on.
This book is a collection of quizzes and tips on how to avoid becoming your parents–a few items are similar/the same as the commercials, but most aren’t. There’s a combination of text, photos, and simple drawings to illustrate
“Dr. Rick”
I didn’t see anywhere in the book (I may have overlooked it) where the author(s) were identified as other than the Dr. Rick character–Progressive Marketing Department, or something like that, I guess. I’d like to give them the credit due, but…I guess that’s not to be.
So, what did I think about Dr. Rick Will See You Now?
This is cute. I find these advertisements pretty amusing, and this is just like sitting down and watching a series of them.
And, hey, it’s free. Free chuckles and something to do for a little bit. That’s a pretty good deal.
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
slow-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
What’s All the Lonely People About?
In the 1950’s Hubert Bird left his home and family in Kingston and went to London in search of work. When we meet him, he’s been a widower for over a decade and has been living shut-off from just about everyone (other than those he runs into doing food shopping, etc.) with only his cat to keep him company.
Until one fateful day (of course, or this’d be a boring book)…
We learn about Hubert’s life in alternating chapters—one in the present and one from his past.
Then
Since arriving in England, Hubert had felt out of place in a whole host of locations in the mother country, everywhere from the streets around Mayfair to the pubs of east London and beyond. But as he stepped off the 9:20 from London Victoria that Saturday morning, all previous experiences paled in comparison to how he felt standing on platform two of Bromley South Station.
He felt like a character from one of the Westerns he enjoyed seeing at the pictures—not the hero, cowboy, or sheriff, but rather the stranger in town. The man who walks into a bar full of life, music, and chatter, only for the whole room to fall into a complete and uneasy silence the moment they notice his presence.
We get glimpses of Hubert’s life from when he decided to leave home, to the early troubles he had finding regular work—employers and fellow employees didn’t exactly welcome “The Windrush Generation” (to put it more than mildly). In the midst of the harassment, undisguised prejudice, and meager wages—Hubert meets and falls in love with a white woman—who falls for him, too, despite her family’s clear wishes. They marry, have a couple of kids, and build a life for themselves—it’s hard and slow going, but they get there.
Eventually, the kids move out and Hubert’s wife dies, and he soon starts living alone.
Now
Hubert talks to his daughter—now a professor in Australia—weekly. He’s ashamed to tell her that he’s cut ties with the outside world, so he invents some friends and spends time each week inventing activities that they’ve been doing so he can have something to tell her when she calls.
Then one day, a new neighbor, Ashleigh, drops by to introduce herself—which just flummoxes Hubert and he cuts the conversation short, he’s so out of practice in interacting with people. Ashleigh’s one of the friendliest, most hopeful characters I’ve encountered recently. After running into him briefly a couple of times, she shows up at Hubert’s door in a panic—she has a job interview and her babysitter just bailed. Can Hubert watch her daughter while she interviews?
“Look, me see you in a pickle. Really, me see that. But have you lost your mind? You can’t just ask a complete stranger to look after your child. Don’t you watch the news?”
“Of course I do,” said Ashleigh. “And yes, I know sometimes the world’s a horrible place, but not always. Sometimes it’s a lovely place where nice things happen for no reason and I’d much rather…” She began to get upset. “I’d much rather live in that world than the other one!”
Hubert gets sucked in—he helps out, and the trio ends up spending more and more time together. Slowly
Meanwhile, Hubert’s daughter is due to come for a visit—his fictional life is about to be exposed. It’s about time for him to actually make some friends. Thankfully, Ashleigh’s been reminding Hubert that life is better when he opens himself up to others and he starts to do just that. Maybe he can have something to tell her after all (after ‘fessing up to the deception). And then Ashleigh gets an idea that ensures he’s going to have a lot to report.
So, what did I think about All the Lonely People?
“It’s easy to waste a lot of time trying to think of a perfect solution to a problem. But sometimes the only thing you can do is cross your fingers and have a go.”
I haven’t read a Mike Gayle book for something like 15 years (just couldn’t find them for a while, and then forgot to look), in that time he went from what I remember as Hornby-esque, but maybe with more jokes. In this book? He reminded me of Fredrik Backman, just with a different accent.
It was just as heartwarming, just as tragic, and with a similar kind of almost impossibly happy ending tinged with sadness that Backman’s noted for. And you don’t care how realistic it is, because you just loved everything that led to that point
I almost instantly liked Hubert and was quickly drawn into his story. You get invested through him (and if you don’t like him by midway through chapter two—just DNF this, it’s not a book for you). I liked Ashleigh almost as much as him, but when it comes to everyone else, you like them/care about them for Hubert’s sake.
For example, when his wife died—it hit me hard (which is odd because I knew about when she’d die even when we met her). But I didn’t feel too bad for her, but my heart broke because of what it did to Hubert. The same goes for the rest of what happens–you care because of Hubert, you’re invested in the story and the antics of his friends because of Hubert, you want things to go well in the end for Hubert’s sake. And you get intensely happy about the last chapter or two because of Hubert. Picking up a theme?
Gayle’s writing was warm and inviting—you get sucked in and carried along because of how it makes you feel, more than because of the plot or even the characters. I’m not always crazy about that kind of writing, but when it works well, it’s really effective (as it is here).
There’s one thing Gayle does that made me mad, and I came close to starting to outline a rant about it—but in the end, I got over it. I thought about DNFing the book! I could still go on a rant about the authorial decisions about it (this is so tricky to talk about in the abstract), because I am still mad, but the end product justified it.
Sure, I said the emotional weight of the story is more important overall to this than the story or characters–but I’ve got nothing against either of them. I liked and admired Hubert. I would love to hang out with Ashleigh and her kid (and her new Significant Other). The story of Hubert’s life feels so real—and is likely freakishly close to so many lives—and the world could use novels about lives like these.
This is such a heartwarming novel, if you get to the end and aren’t in some way cheering over the Capraesque ending? You should try and schedule an electrocardiogram—stat. And you just have to love that epilogue that shows that Hubert isn’t Eleanor Rigby, no matter what the title suggests.
adventurous
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
It was like a bag of popcorn cooking in a microwave. A few pops during the final countdown of the year and then the barrage as the frequency of gunfire made it impossible to separate it into individual discharges. A gunshot symphony. For a solid five minutes, there was an unbroken onslaught as revelers of the new year fired their weapons into the sky following a Los Angeles tradition of decades.
It didn’t matter that what goes up must come down. Every new year in the City of Angels began with risk.
The gunfire of course was joined by legitimate fireworks and firecrackers, creating a sound unique to the city and as reliable through the years as the changing of the calendar.
What’s The Dark Hours About?
It opens on December 31, 2020—Renée Ballard and a fellow detective are partnered up for the night—it’s a kind of all-hands-on-deck kind of night. These two are also part of a team on the trail of a pair of serial rapists that they’re calling the Midnight Men.
But on this night, they’re called out to a shooting death. Ballard’s role is to be the initial investigator and then pass off the case to the homicide detectives after the weekend—but she’s hoping she can keep it longer (their work on a different case could allow for that). There’s a match for the bullet—the same gun was used in an old unsolved case, investigated by Harry Bosch.*
Isn’t it always reassuring to see that no matter what kind of super cop he is, there are cases that Bosch couldn’t close?
The two put their heads together and quickly find a new angle for Bosch’s case as well as a promising line of investigation for Ballard’s.
Meanwhile, the Midnight Men strike again, and this time, there’s something a little different that Ballard picks up. A string she starts pulling that proves to be instrumental.
With Bosch to bounce her ideas off of, as well as a backup she can trust, Ballard gets her chance, once again, to bring a little light to the dark hours of the night.
Bosch
While this is by and large a Renée Ballard book, there’s enough about Harry Bosch to keep a fan satisfied. He’s doing okay with his medical condition, Maddie’s well (and is dating someone, so isn’t spending as much time with Bosch), he’s pretty much holed-up during COVID, studying old case files.
Not at all-surprisingly, when Renée’s path crosses with his, he’s ready to jump into action. Sure, he always is, but add in a lockdown-induced cabin fever? It’s a wonder that Harry wasn’t calling his mentee daily to see if she needed help with anything (although it’s clear that the two have kept in touch).
In the past, the pair have done a better job of keeping Harry’s involvement under the radar, but between Bosch’s Cabin Fever, Ballard’s need to make fast progress on the cases, and her lack of trust for any other detective at the moment they throw that out the window. Which does come back to bite Ballard (as it should).
The 2021-ness of It
… this was the new LAPD—officers stripped of the mandate of proactive enforcement and waiting to be reactive, to hit the streets only when it was requested and required, and only then doing the minimum so as not to engender a complaint or controversy.
To Ballard, much of the department had fallen into the pose of a citizen caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Head down, eyes averted, adhering to the warning: nobody move, and nobody gets hurt.
I don’t remember Connelly’s books being so obviously of the moment until last year’s The Law of Innocence which ended just as lockdowns were starting in California.
Connelly’s books have always felt contemporary—other mystery series might feel 5-10 years out of step, but not Connelly. Although, even the older books largely felt like they could’ve taken place a couple of years ago (except for the technology involved). But The Dark Hours has to be a 2021 novel—Ballard, Bosch, and the city are going through things that could only have happened after the protests of 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic.
It makes things feel more immediate, but does it hurt readers in 5-10 years? Fair Warning, also published last year, could take place anytime after 2010 (maybe earlier). A lot of the other books felt timely to their context, but even now they don’t feel that dated. Will these?
I don’t know if this is a strength or a long-term weakness, but it is, as far as I can remember, a change.
However, seeing Renée having to adapt to COVID restrictions (no more living on the beach!) and struggling with the changes (temporary? long-lasting?) that the protests of Summer of 2020 about policing in America have brought to the LAPD is great to see. Connelly is able to show a department in flux, which can’t have been an easy tightrope to walk.
So, what did I think about The Dark Hours?
Ehhh…I’m not sure what to say here.
In the moment, while I was reading, it was typical Connelly—I was gripped, I was riveted, I couldn’t wait to see the murder solved. I was less invested in the rape case because once Ballard starts to get a little traction, once she starts to learn a little bit about these guys, I was repulsed. I really didn’t want to learn more—I just wanted them locked away—I even said something to a friend like “can’t we just get a quick, miraculous, resolution to this by page 180 and spend the rest of the book focusing on the murders?” Great job by Connelly creating some very horrible criminals, but I don’t want to spend time thinking about them.
But it’s not his best work—I’m not sure it’s not up to his par, even. The more I think about it, the more I’m bothered by parts of the story and storytelling. The Epilogue, by the way? It’s a scene from a TV show. Working on Bosch, Lincoln Lawyer, and Bosch: Legacy have impacted Connelly at least a little and it shows here.
I thought the stuff about the impact of COVID and the protests was fantastic—and you get no simple answers about the past/present/future of policing in LA. I’m just not sure the rest of the novel was as good as we’ve come to expect from Connelly (I’m open to being corrected by others who read it, though).
Good—but not good enough—I guess is my takeaway. Still, time with Bosch and Ballard? Always time well spent.