#abookamonth

This month’s read was ‘Flesh and Blood’ by Patricia Cornwell. 

WARNING: potential spoilers

I picked this book up from the library, keen to get into my first forensic thriller novel.  Years ago when I wasted much more time in front of the TV, I was a huge sucker for shows like CSI, NCIS, Bones, Criminal Minds, and The Mentalist all throughout school, so I felt this was a safe and enjoyable genre.  The reviews on the back assured me that this writer was the absolute best at what she does and is well informed with current forensic pathology equipment and techniques, so I plunged in with no doubt that I would be entertained. 

The first chapter set the scene of a brilliant and overqualified medical examiner with a finger in every military pie, married to a stoic, handsome, and overall perfect sounding FBI agent. I was quickly becoming disappointed by how idyllic  their life sounded, even though this was likely the intention of the author to create a stark contrast to the disasters revealed soon after. The main character even had time to reflect on their bedroom activities over breakfast and consider whether to head back to bed for some not-sleeping. 

Nobody does this. Mornings are for harried people dragging themselves out of bed, rushing through or skipping breakfasts, plus or minus the ritual of making their face presentable to co-workers. I felt that alluding to sex so early on in the game/book was meant to lure a certain demographic in. I suddenly felt like I was supposed to be a 40 year old woman with kids who is trying to find spice in her life by way of books and might dabble in 50 Shades due to its popularity, and I don’t want to be that person.

Added to this nonsense was the main character’s niece, who was described as a beautiful, skinny, genius level hacker who does whatever the hell she wants, flies helicopters (a fact flaunted within the first chapter alone), drives expensive cars, and is impossibly rich. There was some attempt to balance this out with her personality flaws and social issues but you can’t just throw these extremes together and hope that the end result is somewhere within the vicinity of neutral.

I also found the chapter divisions went something like this:

Chapter 4

Chump A muttered scathingly about this week’s memo mandating Crocs in the workplace. Chump B offered, ‘At least I don’t have to think about what to wear now. I save so much time in the mornings!’

Chapter 5

‘And aren’t they just so comfortable? I’ll admit I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them outside of work, although their new catalogue has some designs that can pass as ‘normal’ shoes.’

...and the entire book was disjointed in this fashion. It didn’t go so far as to split a sentence in two, but it definitely divided a thought process or a related sentence to the point that it felt like someone just said, ‘Ugh it’s been 50 pages, it’s probably time for a new chapter’.

This book was written like a movie. I could picture someone writing the storyboard and putting in a panel as they thought, ‘Cliffhanger goes ... here.’ I also realised a crucial error in my book selection when the antagonist’s name was finally revealed, and that was I had entered the world of Dr Whatever at book #20/23 (not the actual numbers) of the series. At first I thought it was an intentional move by the author not to spend 2 pages describing the background of every new character encountered to help with maintaining the flow of the story. In all likelihood, these pages detailing her policeman sidekick’s life history and all of her co-workers quirks had been scribbled in the very first book of the series. I had a quick scan of the synopses of the other books online, and found that our protagonist had an affair with her now-husband. Juicy and not-so-perfect. It even made Dr Scandalous a little more likeable, up until the point that she compared herself to a co-worker currently engaged not-so-subtly in an affair, giving herself a pat on the back for being discrete about her own affair. 

Another thing that crime shows will do to me is increase my jumpiness and illogical thoughts x 100. I was up to a relatively action packed and suspenseful part of the book the protagonist and her partner approached a house as the next step in their investigation, but things were ‘off’. Front door was slightly ajar, a vehicle belonging to another officer was present but the officer himself was nowhere in sight and unable to be contacted. I was getting the tinglies, when... 

BAM!!! My hoosband (henceforth referred to as DH) bursts through our front door and I hit the roof with a heartrate of 200bpm. When I was much younger, this (illogical) fear extended to unwillingness to go to the bathroom or into the kitchen where it was dark. Were there lights? Sure. But I would have go into the semi-dark area first to switch it on. Even then the silence would be eerie and I’d hightail it outta there ASAP.