A woman at a used bookshop I frequent told me that I should read Louise Penny books, and that this was a good place to start. Either she was mistaken or this author just is not for me. 

The author performs so many narrative acrobatics to withhold information here. Page one introduces us to an ongoing murder trial, but the name of the defendant isn’t revealed until like page 350. 

There’s a mysterious figure that shows up early in the book, but it’s dumb as hell. The super choppy writing style drove me up the wall. Sentence fragments. In every paragraph. Forever. Nonstop. Always. 

If Don Winslow wrote a screenplay for a CBC-produced Scream knockoff, it would probably turn out like this.