It doesn’t help that I am in the process of re-reading Joe R. Lansdale’s Hap and Leonard books. Joe demonstrates just how good suspense fiction can be. His books, be they Hap and Leonard or otherwise, are rich in humor, moral ambiguity, character, shocking situations, and unbeatable storylines.
It also doesn’t help that the suspense field is even worse than the horror community when it comes to hyperbole. Writers stumble all over one another as they heap superlative praise on mediocrity.
It almost hurts that Alex Finlay can write. He’s good at character, strong settings, and language. These things can make the glaring deficiencies stand out even more than if a writer is a cheap hack.
I like suspense fiction. When done well, it can have deeper resonance than supernatural horror. Thrillers take place in the real world, the here and now. We can rest assured that no vampire, ghost or zombie is going to plague our lives, but any of us could be the victim of a murderer at any time. It’s happening to someone, somewhere, right this very moment.
I’m still trying to find writers who do it as well as David Bell or Chevy Stevens. Oh, they’re out there. You want to see it done right, as good as Lansdale or anyone? Try a Ken Joworowski book. There has to be more, but chuffing through the scruff is an arduous task.
Alex Finlay’s The Night Shift was one of the best thrillers I’d read in a long time. Here we go! A new favorite. Then I read once called What Have We Done. It was one of the most insultingly stupid books I’d ever read. Sigh and double sigh. Another good writer pandering down to the lowest common denominator of fiction cliches.
Slightly deterred, I tried another. Parent’s Weekend is a lot better than What Have We Done, but I didn’t love it either.
One more for the gipper. I checked The Anniversary out from the library and hoped for the best.
The Anniversary starts off well enough. In fact, I was really enjoying it. Sure, I had to suspend my disbelief, but I have no problem with that.
It’s the first day of May and young Quinn’s birthday. It also becomes a day of infamy for him and other victims of an annual serial killer.
The Anniversary alternates points of view between Quinn and Jules. Jules was raped, but released by the Mayday killer. Some he kills, some he keeps.
Both characters are well drawn. I, in turn, was drawn into the story, but as The Anniversary rolled on I began to grow weary.
The novel became convoluted and unbelievable. I often think simple stories are the most effective. Don’t bog down the characters and situations with too many complications. Complex plots can be done well. Look at Peter Straub’s masterful Koko/ Blue Rose stories. Alex Finaly is not, unfortunately, Peter Straub.
I figured out who the killer was early on. Not from any particular clue or hint, but because it was the most predictable character for the role.
Years go by, our intrepid Hardy Boy and Nancy Drew continue to seek out the killer’s identity across an international landscape. Suspense builds to an anthill, and the faux-shocking conclusion. But wait! Finlay has a, you guessed it, a final surprise in store for his readers. As usual, the pretzel logic behind the twist makes little sense and defies all credibility. Sadly, thriller audiences would probably feel cheated if they didn’t get at least one juicy zinger at the end of a book.
There’s a happily-ever-after ending that didn’t exactly warm my heart. By that point I didn’t care about Quint, Jules, or the subsidiary characters.
Alex Finlay attempts to bring emotional weight to his fiction, but once again failed to win me over.
Damn it, the guy understands pacing. He keeps his books moving quickly. Short chapters help keep me riveted to the pages. I just wish he’d deliver a more satisfying novel.
I know it’s a lot easier said than done. As always, the few stand out of the pack. There are a lot, and I mean a whole lot, of generic suspense novels out there. Maybe my expectations are impossibly high, but I’ve read great books and I’ve enjoyed average ones.
As far as I’m concerned these writers, for the most part, need to tone it down. Stop piling on the idiotic twists and keep the story reined in without too many muddying details. It’s like a recipe for cooking. Plain food tastes good. Don’t bury the ingredients in too much spice. The real experts know precisely how to mix it up for a fine repast.
Or maybe Alex Finlay is doing it exactly right. This is probably the kind of thing thriller readers not only want, but demand. He seems to be doing well and probably sells more than Chevy Stevens or David Bell or Ken Jaworowski. More's the pity.
Written by Mark Sieber
It also doesn’t help that the suspense field is even worse than the horror community when it comes to hyperbole. Writers stumble all over one another as they heap superlative praise on mediocrity.
It almost hurts that Alex Finlay can write. He’s good at character, strong settings, and language. These things can make the glaring deficiencies stand out even more than if a writer is a cheap hack.
I like suspense fiction. When done well, it can have deeper resonance than supernatural horror. Thrillers take place in the real world, the here and now. We can rest assured that no vampire, ghost or zombie is going to plague our lives, but any of us could be the victim of a murderer at any time. It’s happening to someone, somewhere, right this very moment.
I’m still trying to find writers who do it as well as David Bell or Chevy Stevens. Oh, they’re out there. You want to see it done right, as good as Lansdale or anyone? Try a Ken Joworowski book. There has to be more, but chuffing through the scruff is an arduous task.
Alex Finlay’s The Night Shift was one of the best thrillers I’d read in a long time. Here we go! A new favorite. Then I read once called What Have We Done. It was one of the most insultingly stupid books I’d ever read. Sigh and double sigh. Another good writer pandering down to the lowest common denominator of fiction cliches.
Slightly deterred, I tried another. Parent’s Weekend is a lot better than What Have We Done, but I didn’t love it either.
One more for the gipper. I checked The Anniversary out from the library and hoped for the best.
The Anniversary starts off well enough. In fact, I was really enjoying it. Sure, I had to suspend my disbelief, but I have no problem with that.
It’s the first day of May and young Quinn’s birthday. It also becomes a day of infamy for him and other victims of an annual serial killer.
The Anniversary alternates points of view between Quinn and Jules. Jules was raped, but released by the Mayday killer. Some he kills, some he keeps.
Both characters are well drawn. I, in turn, was drawn into the story, but as The Anniversary rolled on I began to grow weary.
The novel became convoluted and unbelievable. I often think simple stories are the most effective. Don’t bog down the characters and situations with too many complications. Complex plots can be done well. Look at Peter Straub’s masterful Koko/ Blue Rose stories. Alex Finaly is not, unfortunately, Peter Straub.
I figured out who the killer was early on. Not from any particular clue or hint, but because it was the most predictable character for the role.
Years go by, our intrepid Hardy Boy and Nancy Drew continue to seek out the killer’s identity across an international landscape. Suspense builds to an anthill, and the faux-shocking conclusion. But wait! Finlay has a, you guessed it, a final surprise in store for his readers. As usual, the pretzel logic behind the twist makes little sense and defies all credibility. Sadly, thriller audiences would probably feel cheated if they didn’t get at least one juicy zinger at the end of a book.
There’s a happily-ever-after ending that didn’t exactly warm my heart. By that point I didn’t care about Quint, Jules, or the subsidiary characters.
Alex Finlay attempts to bring emotional weight to his fiction, but once again failed to win me over.
Damn it, the guy understands pacing. He keeps his books moving quickly. Short chapters help keep me riveted to the pages. I just wish he’d deliver a more satisfying novel.
I know it’s a lot easier said than done. As always, the few stand out of the pack. There are a lot, and I mean a whole lot, of generic suspense novels out there. Maybe my expectations are impossibly high, but I’ve read great books and I’ve enjoyed average ones.
As far as I’m concerned these writers, for the most part, need to tone it down. Stop piling on the idiotic twists and keep the story reined in without too many muddying details. It’s like a recipe for cooking. Plain food tastes good. Don’t bury the ingredients in too much spice. The real experts know precisely how to mix it up for a fine repast.
Or maybe Alex Finlay is doing it exactly right. This is probably the kind of thing thriller readers not only want, but demand. He seems to be doing well and probably sells more than Chevy Stevens or David Bell or Ken Jaworowski. More's the pity.
Written by Mark Sieber
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