Read as part of cbr13bingo: pandemic
This is the second time I’ve tried Alison Gaylin’s work and for the life of me, I don’t know why I can’t connect with it. The first book I couldn’t even finish because I found myself not caring about the lead. This one was a chore, even if I enjoyed parts of it. Again, even with the multiple POVs, I couldn’t bring myself to muster energy for the lead.
I have mixed feelings about Gillian Flynn but there’s a verve to her books, an energy. These feel like the zombiefied version of Flynn’s work: just lacking energy. And so it tries to get the story moving with twist after twist, some interesting, most predictable, one I genuinely did not see coming. All of it made for a fine, if mediocre reading experience.
And it sucks because I think the set up is really good: the kind of Hollywood murder mystery involving big time players and their kids, shady characters on the periphery, and the kind of fear and paranoia that came with the Tate-LaBianca murders. Gaylin does a good enough job capturing that spirit. I just wish she had populated it with interesting characters and a better story.
The book isn’t bad by any means, neither is Gaylin’s work. It may just not be for me. Which is a shame because I look at her plots and her bona fides and think I should enjoy her stuff more than I do. Such is life.