JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Girl from Widow Hills by Megan Miranda

Everyone knows the story of the girl from Widow Hills.

When Arden Mayes was six years old, she was swept away in terrifying storm and went missing for days. Against all odds, she was found alive, clinging to a storm drain. A living miracle. Arden’s mother wrote a book, and fame followed. But so did fans, creeps and stalkers. It was all too much, and as soon as she was old enough, Arden changed her name and left Widow Hills behind.

Now, a young woman living hundreds of miles away, Arden is known as Olivia. With the twentieth anniversary of her rescue looming, media interest in the girl who survived is increasing. Where is she now? The stress brings back the night terrors of Olivia’s youth. Often, she finds herself out of bed in the middle of the night, sometimes outside her home, even streets away. Then one evening she jolts awake in her yard, with the corpse of a man at her feet.

The girl from Widow Hills is about to become the centre of the story, once again.

Megan Miranda’s The Girl from Widow Hills is a fast-paced psychological thriller about a young woman forced to face her traumatic but mysterious past when a dead body is discovered on her property.

At 6 years old, Arden Maynor got caught in a flash flood whilst sleepwalking. She miraculously survived in a storm drain for three days and was found clinging to a grate. Fame followed her for years and so when she got older, she changed her name to Olivia Wells and moved to rural North Carolina.

Now 26 and a hospital administrator, Olivia works hard to keep her past hidden. Until that body ends up outside her house and she’s thrust back into the spotlight once again, the media circus returning to her front door.

“I was too young to really remember, and too much time had passed anyway, the trauma buried under so many layers that it existed only in the psychological reactions: the flutter of my pulse as the doors slid shut in an elevator; a ringing in my ears in the darkness of a movie theatre before the first trailer kicked in…”

A lot of this book explores unprocessed trauma — memory loss, murky childhood events, and the unreliability of Olivia’s mind. The Girl from Widow Hills also explores the media’s obsession with these survival stories, people who escape the inescapable. And then the media feel they’re owed updates in the years to follow. They don’t always care for the life that person is trying to lead, away from the limelight.

The writing is sleek and effecting. Narrative devices propel the story forward, red herrings keep you guessing, and the carefully woven twists and turns keep you enthralled. The cast is large enough that there’s room to suspect just about anyone of anything, and there’s enough mystery to keep the readers guessing.

The book is scattered with additional narrative elements that help carve a bigger picture surrounding Olivia’s childhood, such as newspaper articles, interview transcripts, police reports, and publicity coverage. Slowly, we’re able to piece together what happened to Olivia as a child, and how that connects to the dead body she found on her boundary line.

“There was a visceral reaction to speaking about the past. Something I’d long gone out of the way to contain. A shaking that started in my fingers, a tremor that worked its way through my body, though no one seemed to notice but me. The precursor to panic; something that seized my mind and body alike.”

Truthfully, I think there’s a bit of disconnect between the reader and Olivia. You spend so much of the book trying to understand her past, and her memories from when she was six, that I don’t feel like you really get to connect with her as an adult. Olivia comes across as distant — a little stiff and boring. You never really feel a huge range of emotions coming from Olivia, it’s mainly an observant kind of POV, assessing the events around her. Readers will follow along for the mystery, not for the characters.

“Everyone tried to act normal when I arrived at the hospital. Faces that were either too friendly, or people who averted their gaze entirely, pretending to be absorbed in their phones. I had found a dead body outside my house, and everyone knew it.”

Admittedly, the ending is a little far-fetched and rushed but by then you’re so seduced by the story, you don’t really care.

Recommended for fans of thrillers, crime and psychological suspense novels.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Girl from Widow Hills
Megan Miranda
August 2020
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

Malorie by Josh Malerman

In the old world there were many rules. In the new world there is only one: don’t open your eyes.

In the seventeen years since the ‘creatures’ appeared, many people have broken that rule. Many have looked. Many have lost their minds, their lives, their loved ones.

In that time, Malorie has raised her two children – Olympia and Tom – on the run or in hiding. Now nearly teenagers, survival is no longer enough. They want freedom.

When a census-taker stops by their refuge, he is not welcome. But he leaves a list of names – of survivors building a future beyond the darkness – and on that list are two names Malorie knows.

Two names for whom she’ll break every rule, and take her children across the wilderness, in the hope of becoming a family again…

Josh Malerman’s Malorie is the sequel to the cultural sensation-turned-Netflix-movie Birdbox, starring Sandra Bullock.

In this follow up, Malorie is even more cautious and paranoid than when we last saw her. She’s had seventeen years to perfect her methods of survival. She’s got two teenage children now and even though they’re old enough to look after themselves, they’re teenagers and they don’t always obey the rules. They don’t remember the world before the creatures — sometimes they’re too trusting, and they don’t always understand why they can’t look outside at the real world.

Malorie needs to learn to trust her children. She needs to learn to loosen the reigns a little. She’s hyper-cautious and strict, and she doesn’t trust easily, and whilst it’s easy to understand her characterisation, her son Tom in particular grows quite resentful of her smothering nature over the course of the novel.

“Malorie thinks of Gary. It makes sense. A man arrives at the camp. He knocks. He speaks from the other side of the door. All good intentions, of course. Until you let him in, of course. Then he makes friends with the others, ingratiates himself to the point where your own kids turn on you, and presto, you’ve welcomed an old-world mad-man into your life.”

It’s fascinating reading this whilst living through a pandemic. You can suddenly relate to the characters’ fear of the unknown, the scepticism, the uncertainty and the doubt. The blindfolds feel strangely close to masks, and remembering myself watching the film — pre COVID-19 — with no idea of what was to come to the world, is a strange thought.

Malorie is a bit of a balancing act — road trip, survival story, family drama, teenage angst. There are so many different elements to the story and Josh does a really fantastic job of juggling them all and maintaining interest from the reader. There are lots of twists and turns, plot points I didn’t see coming. Although admittedly, there are some moments where Tom goes from being an understandably rebellious teenager, to being just that little bit too annoying and unlikable.

“Tom is stricken by how alive Malorie looks. Her eyes appear bright memories, realisations, decisions. The bag beside her is full. She wears a hoodie and long pants, gloves and boots. In one hand is the blindfold she just removed.”

Whilst you can read Malorie without having read or watched Birdbox, I’d advise you familiarise yourself with its predecessor. It would make for a richer and more enjoyable experience when reading Malorie. There are frequent mentions to events from the previous book, particularly surrounding the character Gary, and I do think readers who are unfamiliar with Birdbox will get confused easily.

“She thinks of Camp Yadin and how safe they were. She can almost feel the texture of the rope in her gloved hands, rope connecting each building, one of which housed canned goods, another with a garden beside it. She sees herself, waking there, walking there, living there, safe. She hears herself asking the teens what might be outside.”

Whilst the ending of the book is satisfactory and satisfying, I felt like the pacing was inconsistent. The book moves at a slow but tense pace, drawing the reader in and keeping them engaged throughout. But the ending is incredibly fast and rushed. I almost couldn’t believe Malerman was going to wrap up the story in such a short amount of pages, and yet, he did. I wish some more time had been spent on the ending.

Highly recommended, although do read or watch Birdbox first.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Malorie
Josh Malerman
August 2020
Hachette Book Publishers Australia

Flyaway by Kathleen Jennings

Bettina Scott lives a tidy, quiet life in Runagate, tending to her delicate mother and their well-kept garden after her father and brothers disappear – until a note arrives that sends Bettina into the scrublands beyond, searching for answers about what really happened to this town, and to her family.

For this is a land where superstitions hunt and folk tales dream – and power is there for the taking, for those willing to look.

19-year-old Bettina Scott lives with her mother; her father and two brothers disappeared three years earlier. Kathleen Jennings’ Flyaway is a gothic, mythical fantasy novella set within a Western Queensland town. Bettina has never found out what happened to them, and after a note implies one, or more, of her brothers is still alive, Bettina embarks on a journey to uncover the truth.

Flyaway is a blend of the real and the otherworldly — the book is underpinned by a subtle hint of unease and rising tension. At just 180 pages, Flyaway is a quick read.

“She made it to the trees. Later, they would find a thread of her coat caught on the bark of a dead silky oak, although they would not know whether she had left it coming or going.”

I feel like there’s two elements to this review — writing style, and the actual story itself.

Kathleen’s prose is lyrical and poetic, gorgeous. She evokes emotions and images with the quickest and brutal of sentences. Dialogue is brief and sparse, but welcome. Kathleen incorporates similes and metaphors that really sing off the page. Immediately, I felt completely enveloped by her writing and her prose. Kathleen has an incredible ability of weaving words together to create really evocative sentences.

“The triangle tangle of roads and tracks held the district of Inglewell: hills and scrub glittered in the power-white light, fading to chalk blue; sharp grasses fluttered pale in the paddocks, green and burgundy on the verge; grey huts subsided into themselves like memory.”

Okay, the actual story. Truthfully? I hate to say this because I really wanted to love this, but I was quite bored reading this. Not even exquisite prose can make me fall in love with cardboard cut-out characters. And sometimes, it really felt like these characters fell a bit flat. At times, the dialogue felt stilted and unnatural, particularly between Bettina and her mother. And none of the characters felt particularly fleshed out to me. It felt like Kathleen spent so much time perfecting each sentence, but she didn’t spend enough time on the story and characters as a whole.

Additionally, I just didn’t ‘feel’ the magic/folklore element that the blurb and cover promised. Moments of fantasy are peppered throughout, albeit randomly, and it did feel a little thin and disorienting. This felt like a stretched tale — could this have just been a short story? Browsing reviews of this novella make it clear that I’m definitely in the minority with these thoughts — there’s a lot of love out there for this book, so there’s obviously just something about this plot and this story that didn’t quite resonate with me like it did other readers.

“Then there were stories of those who had simply…gone. Walked into the trees or vanished from a tent in the night, been swallowed up in long-fingered leaves, waded into waterholes or fallen through cracks in the earth. Or those who had got into the car one night and driven off without saying goodbye.”

Recommended for fans of fantasy and the supernatural. Fans of literary fiction will welcome the writing style and poetic cohesion of Kathleen’s words.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Flyaway
Kathleen Jennings
August 2020
Pan Macmillan Publishers Australia

Small Pleasures by Clare Chambers

Jean Swinney is a feature writer on a local paper, disappointed in love and – on the brink of forty – living a limited existence with her truculent mother: a small life from which there is no likelihood of escape.

When a young Swiss woman, Gretchen Tilbury, contacts the paper to claim that her daughter is the result of a virgin birth, it is down to Jean to discover whether she is a miracle or a fraud. But the more Jean investigates, the more her life becomes strangely (and not unpleasantly) intertwined with that of the Tilburys: Gretchen is now a friend, and her quirky and charming daughter Margaret a sort of surrogate child. And Jean doesn’t mean to fall in love with Gretchen’s husband, Howard, but Howard surprises her with his dry wit, his intelligence and his kindness – and when she does fall, she falls hard.

But he is married, and to her friend – who is also the subject of the story she is researching for the newspaper, a story that increasingly seems to be causing dark ripples across all their lives. And yet Jean cannot bring herself to discard the chance of finally having a taste of happiness…

But there will be a price to pay, and it will be unbearable.

Clare Chambers’ Small Pleasures is a tender and heartwarming novel about middle-age journalist Jean Swinney and young seamstress Gretchen, who claims her 10-year-old daughter was the result of a virgin birth.

Jean is assigned to report on Gretchen’s story and soon becomes heavily entangled within Gretchen’s family, not just because she’s determined to substantiate Gretchen’s story and prove that Margaret is indeed a miracle, but because Jeann forms a growing bond with Gretchen’s caring, compassionate but overlooked husband Howard.

Small Pleasures explores family, expectations and responsibility, but it’s also a really beautiful and budding love story.

“Spontaneous generosity was a new experience for Jean — until today such opportunities had seldom come her way and would probably have gone unnoticed. She and her mother exchanged small, practical gifts at Christmas, of course, but she was a stranger to more ambitious forms of giving.”

The prologue is intriguing, drawing in readers with the concept of a miracle. Small Pleasures weaves in elements of mystery to keep the readers engaged, and enthral them right up until the final chapter.

Small Pleasures presents itself as a quiet novel — something to be read and reflected upon, something that allows you to ponder the impact of companionship on a lonely soul. It is tender and meaningful.

Set in the London suburbs in the 1960s, Jean is a character to sympathise for. She’s nearing 40 and single, she lives with and cares for her ailing mother, and all hope is lost that she’ll find someone to settle down with. When she meets Gretchen, she soon finds a spot in the family and it feels like a sliver of happiness is opening itself up for Jeann.

“Since her last meeting with Gretchen at the hospital she had told herself to maintain a strictly professional distance, avoiding any overtures of friendship in case it clouded her judgement and made a potentially tricky conversation in the future even trickier.”

Clare’s writing is polished and seamless; sentences weave together like water. The dialogue is realistic and the pacing allows for an inviting read. Descriptions and imagery leap off the page — you can tell Claire has spent considerable time perfecting her craft.

Small Pleasures follows multiple genres — it feels literary from the writing style, but it also feels part mystery and part romance. You become invested in the supposed ‘virgin birth’ of Gretchen’s daughter, even though you know it’s medically impossible. You stay with the story because of the growing affection between Jean and Howard.

“The thought of her sister prompted, as always, a mixture of conflicting emotions, principally rancour and envy, but also powerful, protective love, and grief at the distance between them.”

Admittedly, I found the ending of Gretchen’s story to be a little predictable. The second we find out Gretchen was bedridden during her time at the facility, it seemed a little obvious. Whilst we don’t find out the whole truth until the end, it did feel a little too signposted.

I also felt the plot waned in the middle of the book — things slowed, events dragged, and I found myself counting the pages. It wasn’t until a certain someone reconnected with another someone and disrupted her family that the plot picked up again, and I was hooked again until the ending.

Charming and heartwarming, Small Pleasures is recommended for fans of literary fiction and family tales. Suitable for an adult readership.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Small Pleasures
Clare Chambers
July 2020
Hachette Book Publishers

The Bluffs by Kyle Perry

When a school group of teenage girls goes missing in the remote wilderness of Tasmania’s Great Western Tiers, the people of Limestone Creek are immediately on alert. Three decades ago, five young girls disappeared in the area of those dangerous bluffs, and the legend of ‘the Hungry Man’ still haunts locals to this day.

Now, authorities can determine that the teacher, Eliza Ellis, was knocked unconscious, so someone on the mountain was up to foul play. Jordan Murphy, the local dealer and father of missing student Jasmine, instantly becomes the prime suspect. But Detective Con Badenhorst knows that in a town this size – with corrupt cops, small-town politics, and a teenage YouTube sensation – everyone is hiding something, and bluffing is second nature.

When a body is found, mauled, at the bottom of a cliff, suspicion turns to a wild animal – but that can’t explain why she was discovered barefoot, her shoes at the top of the cliff, laces neatly tied.

Eerie, mysterious and utterly gripping, The Bluffs is the debut novel from Australian author Kyle Perry, set amidst the mountains of Tasmania’s Great Western Tiers. The novel blends the real and the supernatural, drawing readers in with a page-turning mystery and keeping them trapped until they get to the final page.

A group of teenage girls go missing in the remote mountains of the Great Western Tiers; the entire town is on edge because three decades earlier, a different group of young girls went missing and they’ve never been found.

“Eliza had grown up without a father. She’d hated it, she still felt broken hearted whenever she thought of it. She wanted Wren to grow up healthy and happy. Not just with a father, but a father she could respect.”

The Bluffs is heavy with police procedure; robust Sydney detective Con Badenhorst is tasked with finding the missing girls. He’s determined and desperate, but he’s also holding on to some pretty triggering baggage from his work back in Sydney.

Local drug dealer Murphy is one of the strongest characters in the book — flawed and morally ambiguous, but also really likeable. He’s driven by his love for his daughter and his protective nature adds depth to the story.

Local teacher Eliza is a pretty fascinating character. At first, she appears to be a weak character, easily confused or fooled. But over time we come to understand her as a little unreliable, a little mixed up in the information she’s telling us.

“Being dismissed by a 16-year-old was not an experience Con enjoyed, but Gabriella grabbed his arm and he let her drag him outside. His mind was turning, carefully putting observations and facts into boxes, listing options and priorities and questions he needed answered.”

Tension builds with every passing chapter. Writing is crisp and quick; the dialogue is realistic and spurs the story on. There are a lot of characters in the story, but their characterisation is unique and you can tell Kyle spent a lot of time really crafting each and every one of them.

Setting plays a strong part in this novel. The weather is unpredictable and unforgiving — you can feel the cold rain and the harsh environment as it builds up in the mountains. Sometimes setting feels like another character, adding intrigue and mystery. What secrets is that fog hiding?

The blend of supernatural elements into this story was an interesting choice. Personally, I hated the final chapter. When a novel is a standalone and the final chapter hints to some other world, there’s no way for a resolution and I end up incredibly frustrated. But I’m sure not everyone would have the same reaction.

“Something roared in Murphy’s ears. He wrenched against the cuffs on the table, shouting profanity. He was barely aware of the words leaving his mouth as he kicked the chair over behind him, kicked against the metal legs of the table.”

I will admit, there were a few moments — twists — that felt predictable to me. Spoiler alert. The letters KUN being etched onto the police car felt significant, and identifiable as a clue; Madison mentioning the ‘game’ when they were atop the mountains also signalled some kind of forward planning; Jake being tasked with driving himself to the police station when he was acting suspicious — no surprises when he drove off and tried to make a break for it.

I don’t think I fully understood why the author crafted Tom and Monica the way he did. Monica doesn’t have much real estate in the story, so I’m not really sure why we were positioned to feel sorry for her when she also was very aware of Tom’s behaviour. To be honest, I didn’t feel like Eliza and Monica’s acceptance of Tom’s behaviour was very realistic.

The twist about a certain character being related to another certain character was also signposted too many times. I saw that one coming and I imagine other readers might as well.

Despite some predictable moments, The Bluffs will please any crime or mystery reader. Recommended for fans of Stephen King.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Bluffs
Kyle Perry
July 2020
Penguin Random House Publishers