It’s been a while since I finished a book in one sitting and just last week I had a DNF bummer—so this surprisingly eerie read by Joyce Carol Oats was a nice palate cleanser, so to speak. All I knew going in was that it was supposed to be a story told from the POV of a serial killer.
We follow Q___ P______ on his journey through the parole system and his life. It’s written as if by the main character in a journal of some kind—maybe therapy-mandated?
It’s written as if Q___ is telling two stories. He’s telling himself a story about who he is: a killer. He seems to almost mimic human emotion rather than feel it. He’s also telling everyone else a story about how he’s not a killer. As he works to show (at least in the beginning) that he’s getting his life together. The third story is understood by us, the readers, as we weigh these two tales.
Oates masterfully teases out the suspense by relaying the story out of order, creating reveal after reveal of carnage. Similar to Jack Ketchum’s novel The Girl Next Door, this book carries a lightly accusatory vibe toward the reader that grows along with the story—as if simply by witnessing the events we have become complicit in the awful crimes. By the end I felt a frantic need to search for someone, anyone, to flag down for help.
It struck me as possibly inspired by Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes, as well as a few other famous cases, and left me with a similar feeling: loneliness. I’d be curious to know if all serial killers share this sense of profound isolation as if they are creatures from another planet walking among a race not their own. And it’s that line of thought that leads you to a whole series of unsettling questions to ponder.
If the parents had known what I, the reader, know, would it have made a difference? Would getting him help, a better family situation,—something—have stopped what was to come? What red flags do parents ignore unintentionally? Where exactly is the line between not wanting to believe someone you love is capable of horror and refusing to believe the truth?
I love a book that makes me think while it gives me the ick, and this one did just that.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5/5
Have you signed up to receive bite-sized horror straight to your inbox? Do you want to be the first to know when I’m looking for ARC readers, or when a new book is coming out? Head to my Substack or use the QR code! 👉
briennedaugherty.com 