I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid

Since giving birth, I've read the last half of Sold On A Monday, the entirety of The People We Hate at the Wedding, and half of This Is Not Over, and yet I managed to read I'm Thinking Of Ending Things by Iain Reid in exactly two days. And those two days involved the older kids being home from school, and the first drop in temperature and snow storm, virtually stranding them inside the house. I first saw this book - where else? - on Instagram, and when I saw it in Target, I bought it for this tagline alone: "You will be scared. But you won't know why." In my ever-evolving reading career, I've grown to appreciate books with little to no description, and I even find myself steering away from books with overly long and complicated synopses. I'm Thinking of Ending Things lives up to its limited description. You will be scared and you won't know why, and then you will feel incredibly uncomfortable.

The book doesn't offer a synopsis, so I won't either, but that might just be an impossible task, anyway. How do you describe a book like this? This book? It's short and to the point even though there are moments when it feels like the story is getting away from you. It is, at times, overly complicated, but in a way that makes you feel creepily disoriented, like you're walking through a maze of mirrors. It is a scary story, but it also offers insight and epiphanies into the complex function of our brains and our minds, and what it means to be human. It's like those dreams where nothing innately scary happens, but you wake up feeling weird and scared, anyway. Between reading this book and watching The Good Place, my mind has been properly fucked with.

I don't usually read scary stories until this time of year, just like I only read beach-reads in the summer, and I am always hoping that what I choose will be scarier than The Shining, even books deemed, "scary as hell," by King, himself. But nothing has measured up to The Shining, not even Pet Sematary, which is scary for an entirely different reason altogether. I'm Thinking of Ending Things definitely keeps you guessing and keeps the pages turning; there is no way you won't want to know the conclusion, until you do, and then you kind of wish you didn't.

In my limited knowledge of triggers, I believe the end of this novel is one. BUT, I can't tell you what the trigger is without spoiling not just the ending, but the entire book as well. The end isn't exactly unexpected, but it is disturbing, and I honestly don't know how I would be able to watch the Netflix movie after having read the book. Well, ok...I am slightly curious...maybe tomorrow as it continues to snow...⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads. CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE $5.00 Like New.                     

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Sold on a Monday

A Stranger in the House by Shari Lapena

Domestic psychological thrillers are obviously nothing new, but with the seemingly simultaneous launch of Gone Girl and social media - and using social media as the new word-of-mouth - the authors of these novels have started to become even more well-known than King, Grisham, and Patterson. A common theme throughout Breanne's Bookshelf is, in fact, Instagram-popular authors, so that is how I came to read The Couple Next Door by Shari Lapena and how, even though I was grossly disappointed and unimpressed by the book, I learn about every subsequent novel she has published since. I'm too wary to purchase one at full-price, but when I came across A Stranger in the House at a book sale and read the synopsis, I felt it was worth a shot, and - praise the book gods - it was.

In what is quickly becoming cliche, Karen is your typical housewife (though that seems pretty indefinable these days), without so much as a parking ticket to her name. As she prepares dinner one night for her and her husband of just two years, the phone rings. It's a call she always expected to get but hoped never would, and in a flash, she's left the house, leaving behind her phone and purse, and without locking the door. The next thing she knows, Karen is in the hospital after slamming her car into a telephone pole in a rough New York neighborhood that she's never been to before. To add suspicion to injury, Karen can't remember what she was doing there in the first place, what happened before the accident, and why.

The story is mysterious enough to capture my interest throughout the first half of the book, but after that, the shocking twist - the Big Reveal - is mostly that I've abruptly turned to reading for the last page, as that is the next most interesting thing to happen. Up until the very last chapter, the story and characters don't extend beyond what we're so used to in pretty much all domestic psychological thrillers these days.

A Stranger in the House is written well enough, it's a quick read that will provide you a moment of fictitious escape, or - like it did for me - make you want to (re)watch Desperate Housewives. Does anyone else just *love* Brigid?! 🤩 And even though I did enjoy - and am surprised by - the twist that comes in the last chapter, it also left me a little disappointed and gypped; what an underdeveloped character Karen turns out to be! I came to realize, as I closed the book, that she could have been a lot more dynamic, dimensional, and interesting, which is why I gave it ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

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The Man from Primrose Lane by James Renner

I don't even know where to begin with this book. So I will start by saying that I have no idea where to begin in reviewing this book. I suppose I will start at the end and declare up-front that I gave the first two-thirds of this book 3.5 stars and the last third one star, basically for the effort of putting pen to paper. Though I have been disappointed by books in the past, could see the shocking twist from a mile away, or was generally underwhelmed, I have never been completely let down by a book before; like a roller coaster that is wild and crazy and unexpected and then suddenly turns into the Lazy River meets Terminator 2.

David Neff is a successful true crimes writer and one-time author who is taking care of his four-year old son while still reeling from his wife's sudden suicide. On a tip from his publisher, who has always been anxious for Neff's next work, David immerses himself in the random, yet gruesome, murder of an old man, The Man from Primrose Lane. Others knew him as The Man With a Thousand Mittens. Who was he? Why would anyone want him dead? And why did he always wear mittens? These are questions you either won't get answers to, or will have to find like the needle in the completely not-worth-it haystack. A big swing and a miss with this one.

The story of The Man from Primrose Lane is so intricate and mysterious and just twisted enough to make you feel like you're navigating a big spider's web while still making you feel like you have a good handle on the situation, a sign of a well-written thriller. There are a lot of twists and turns that keep you turning the page, and although triggers abound - abduction, pedophilia, torture - I am able to look past the sometimes gruesome nature of the storytelling in order to get to the real root of the story: who was The Man from Primrose Lane and who murdered him? The book is engrossing and unsettling, then suddenly takes a very unexpected move and turns into a hundred-page orgasm that never happens and slowly, confusedly, fizzles away, and if that isn't a let-down, I don't know what is.

Renner seems to work very hard in putting the story together, creating the vivid characters, their histories, and how they connect to one another. He threw in a murder and added some extra mystery then just sort-of chucked it to the four winds. In a drastically over-complicated section, Renner heaves his deviously plotted murder mystery into the arms of an entirely too easy explanation. SPOILER ALERT: 

time travel. Well, fuck if every complicated problem can't be just explained away with a little time travel. *eye roll* Although the explanation of which is convoluted and elaborate, the "solving" of the murder by using time travel makes the story too easy and stupid and more like Renner is applying for a job with Tesla instead of working to find a more credible solution. I skimmed the final section, all while thinking, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid; so stupid that I can't even decide if it was a waste of time. Any other book about murder or time travel would probably be better.

Final rating ⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

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Good Morning, Midnight by Lily Brooks-Dalton

During these often bleak and always confusing times, it feels crass to theme-read. Then again, it is at precisely these moments when we can really benefit from the empathetic value of reading someone else's story, fictional or not. Reading others' situations or perspectives can help us better understand our own situations and perspectives, which is why I was particularly drawn to Lily Brooks-Dalton's short novel, Good Morning, Midnight. In all the bibliophilic blaspheme, I picked up the book solely based on the cover, but the synopsis is what made me plunk down the money and buy it.

Dedicated researcher, Augustine, is nearing the end of his work and the end of his life when he decides to ignore evacuation orders from the Arctic due to some cataclysmic event in the developed world. Knowing he will die there, alone, he is wrapping up his work when he discovers a little girl named Iris among the gear, and suddenly his perspective is shifted. 

Sully - short for Sullivan - is aboard the first space mission to Jupiter and, with her crew, is headed home to an Earth they haven't received communication from in over year. What unfolds is a melodic, profound, existential look into the personal lives we lead and how an uncertain crisis can help us better understand ourselves, for better or worse.

If you're looking for a fast-paced read, or think it will be based on the synopsis, then this is not the book for you. It is a slow-moving 252-page story that - had it been any longer - I probably would have abandoned. The writing is dramatic and meant to be absorbed rather than glossed over, with the main focal points of the story being on how our perspectives are altered in spite of - or because of - even the best-laid plans. Though the story is slow, it is beautiful and lyrical and unexpectedly engrossing, and the crystal-clear imagery both paints the timeless beauty of each different, yet inherently similar, landscape, and is a haunting parallel to each characters' self-imposed isolation.

Although the "cataclysmic event" is rumored to have something to do with war, it is difficult not to draw immediate similarities to what is going on in our current world. Brooks-Dalton perfectly encapsulates the fear and confusion and hope and unexplainable calm yet deep uncertainty that we are all currently grappling with during our own self-imposed isolation. In another way, it is also a good example of the struggles we are having with solitary as well as group isolation. And Good Morning, Midnight really makes the effort to underscore the reasons we feel the need to complain about our current circumstances, both in the importance of having a task to perform, work to do - as in Sully's case - as well as having something or someone besides ourselves to take care of - as in Augustine's.

Good Morning, Midnight really is a great book, though the reflection of current events might not be some readers' cup up tea. And while I am glad the book isn't any longer, there is a particular aspect of the ending that some readers may find frustrating, though this book is most definitely not supposed to be centered around the apocalypse. ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

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Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

Of the Liane Moriarty books I've read, I'm about 50/50. I loved The Hypnotist's Love Story and Big Little Lies, but I did not enjoy My Husband's Secret or Truly, Madly, Guilty. Each story she creates is so intriguing and intricate that each book needs to be taken independent from the others, unlike some authors who disappoint you once, shame on them; disappoint you twice, shame on you, and aren't worth going back to. After reading her latest, Nine Perfect Strangers, Moriarty proves she is an author worth your attention and effort.

Each for their own personal and confidential reasons, nine strangers arrive at a remote Australian health resort prepared for what is promised to be "transformative." Run by an enigmatic, beautiful, former Corporate Executive who was inspired to start Tranquilliam House after her brush with death, things start out as normal as possible for a remote health resort - massages, Yoga, meditation, smoothies, no technology, etc. Suddenly, during a moonlight meditation, things turn kooky, and then just plain crazy. You, the Reader, quite honestly cannot guess what will happen next.

This story is creative and compassionate, even as it underscores the snap judgments we make about strangers for the sole purpose of unburdening ourselves of our own insecurities, complete with cute nicknames like Loony Woman and Serial Killer. The book jacket boasts that you "will laugh and gasp" and that is most definitely true. Nine Perfect Strangers is unexpected and nutty with a charismatic cast of characters who are witty and interesting with just the right amount of drama to perfectly reflect...life. The writing is clear and jocular, dramatic fun that is not overly horrifying but still gives you pause. Definitely one of Moriarty's better novels, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.  

Maestra by L.S. Hilton

Well, this novel definitely falls into the I Don't Know What The Fuck I Just Read category. Maestra by L.S. Hilton gave me some very conflicting thoughts, not unlike the book itself; it's Fifty Shades of Grey without the whiny Anastasia, and Nancy Drew with extra naughty. And if there is one thing the book taught me, it's to never underestimate the underling.

Judith is a put-upon art house assistant whose talents are grossly overlooked and taken advantage of. When she accidentally discovers an impending heist, Judith sets off on a European tour that would make even the Hilton sisters green with envy (and scream from all of the spanking).

Maestra starts out interesting enough, though the uncovering of the heist is a bit confusing. It helps that Judith's work and her obvious display of intelligence are interspersed with erotic sex scenes with strangers who also happen to swim in the same circles, which is just the beginning of the various contradictions. 

Then Judith seems to put her Nancy Drew routine on hold while she high-end hooks from the French Riviera to Geneva. The book synopsis will have you believe that Judith sets out to reclaim what is rightfully her's when it's really more of something falling into her lap and she is just selfish enough to go after it. The story is empowering though degrading, overly complicated yet too easy, glamorous but trashy, and classy yet sleazy. The writing is pretentious and elitist even though Hilton has a proclivity for the word "cunt," and although Judith - as well as the book - scoffs at the idea that a woman embracing her sexuality is a result of trauma, she still peppers the story with snippets of Judith's violent childhood. Aside from that, we never get to know anything about Judith besides her fashion choices and how wet her pussy gets.

The writing - unlike the inside of Judith, apparently - is not smooth or fluid, and although Hilton obviously has a very broad vocabulary, it doesn't extend to her sex scenes. And what Judith makes look easy, Hilton over-complicates with her list of geographical places in lieu of any imagery.

Maestra is definite superficial erotic escapism in the way that is totally unreal and unbelievable. And even though Romance novels are always outside the realms of reality, I feel duped with this book for some reason; the execution just missed the mark. I won't rush out to the bookstore to continue the trilogy, but I won't turn it down if I happen across Domina at the Dollar Tree.

⭐⭐/goodreads CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE 

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