Slowly but surely, and of course, unhealthily, we begin to emerge from isolation due to the pandemic. I doubt I’ll be keeping up my book-every-one-or-two-days ratio until the inevitable second wave. So I’m beginning to cast aside the stack of stuff I was going to read to pass the time.
This is probably the last one. I got it off one recommendation or another, can’t even remember now where it was. And that seems kind of appropriate because I finished this last night and I’m already forgetting a lot about this book. And since the book is about memory loss, that feels appropriate too.
I know I picked it up because it was billed as a fun NYC read and I’m heartbroken about not being able to really romp around Manhattan right now. It fits the bill there. And Kate White is a competent writer. The story had me intrigued enough to keep going, the characterization is a level above “thin”, and most everything else works although the plot was clunky at times.
This isn’t reinventing the wheel and she doesn’t have to. It helped me successfully pass the time and did just enough to merit the default 4-star rating. I’ve certainly read 3-star books that I found to be better but I like rewarding competence.
If you’re into female-centered thrillers that don’t rise to the level of Gillian Flynn but do a decent imitation, you could do worse than this one. Though don’t ask me to summarize it. I’m already forgetting.