As I continue on my quest to finally catch up on all my backlog reviews, here is another block of them for books that were just blah or meh or ugh. You’re welcome.
Reviews in this post:
Continue reading “Mini-Review Dump💩: The Girl on Mill Street, The 20th Victim, The Only Good Indians and Killing for Sport – Inside the Minds of Serial Killers”
- The Girl on Mill Street by Peter Gilboy
- The 20th Victim (Women’s Murder Club, #20) by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro
- The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones
- Killing For Sport: Inside the Minds of Serial Killers by Pat Brown
Little, Brown & Company | 2018
Filed Under: Don’t write down plans for the murder you’re going to commit
I’ve gone and done it again *said in Kevin Spacey John Doe voice* (if you don’t understand that reference, please leave, watch Se7en and then come back.)
Alright?! OKAY? I admit it! That makes it twice this year I’ve broken my New Year’s resolution to not read any Patterson at all.
I’m weak! I have issues. I need a 12-step program for letting shit go; for being okay with not knowing. It’s really my worst quality as a human being. My mental health agrees.
But whatever. It’s done. I read it. So, here’s the review.
CONTENT! *does jazz hands*
While I didn’t necessarily think this book was anything amazing, I have to say, I can see Candice Fox all over the writing in this book and that makes it infinitely better than most Patterson publications. The chapters are still short, the content shallow and a lot of moments are overly dramatic, but the actual prose felt more mature, unlike what I’d typically classify Patterson writing as. Read: juvenile.
Continue reading “Review: Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue, #2) by James Patterson & Candice Fox”
Little, Brown & Company | 2019
Filed Under: Lindsay’s gonna Lindsay.
Let’s get this straight, Patterson and I broke up a long time ago. But just like every toxic relationship cycle, sometimes I go back to him.
Specifically, I go back when a new Women’s Murder Club instalment is released. I’ve been reading this series since the first book was published in 2001. I was fifteen, and at that time, I thought Patterson was the epitome of great crime fiction. It took me into my 20s, with exposure to crime fiction that was legitimately good, to realize that Patterson isn’t a very good writer, he’s just prolific. And I, like a lot of people, confused “popular” with being talented.
That’s not to say people don’t genuinely enjoy his work. Obviously they do, but objectively it’s pretty bad.
Now, I don’t care if you’re the biggest Patterson fan around, I’m not interested in a debate. Go read his work and write glowing reviews for him to your heart’s content. It affects me zero percent. But my opinion is that he’s a terrible writer. TERRIBLE. But remember, it’s only one opinion. I am not the final say in the matter. So don’t fucking @ me about it.
Every year I make a resolution to not read any Patterson, and every year I break that resolution at least once. This is my one for 2019.
But let’s face it, when it comes to a quick book to help you achieve a yearly reading goal, Patterson makes it so easy it almost feels like cheating.
Continue reading “Review: The 18th Abduction (Women’s Murder Club, #18) by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro”
Little, Brown & Company | 2018
Filed Under: B for Beffort.
So, this is the first review I’m posting on my blog of this series, but here’s the
sordid background on me and this series:
I have read every single one of the books in this series. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Even the novellas.
You can find all of my reviews on Goodreads if you’re so inclined to watch my descent into pure, unadulterated hatred.
Oh, yes, that’s right. Hatred. I am well-versed in the Women’s Murder Club. And I fucking hate-read this series with a fiery, binge-y passion. Truthfully, I hate mostly everything Patterson writes.
Gather around, children and listen to your elder millennial: James Patterson is a fucking awful writer.
Continue reading “Review: The 17th Suspect by James Patterson & Maxine Paetro”
Century | 2016
Filed Under: More like Sometimes Sometimes
Literally, two of my three book-related New Years’ resolutions for 2018 were to stop reading James Patterson and I’ve already failed. It’s only March! What is wrong with me?!
Don’t answer that.
My only consolation is that this wasn’t totally fucking awful.
Candice Fox is an excellent writer on her own. She’s obviously the reason this book is at least relatively well written, but it’s still an emotional flatliner that is full of logic-holes.
It maintains the typical Patterson style of short chapters and colourful characters who lack depth, plus the usual “detective chasing a serial killer” plot that doesn’t attempt to bring anything new to the genre.
But what this book does have, which other Patterson novels don’t, is more realistic dialogue and a female lead that doesn’t irritate me when she calls everyone “butterfly” and has to hug her friends because she hasn’t seen them for a whole five minutes *cough Women’s Murder Club cough*
Continue reading “Review: Never Never (Detective Harriet Blue, #1) by James Patterson & Candice Fox”