The intention years ago was to explore where I was with fiction as an adult. I read two different sci-fi things, hesitated to read any horror given the last few years of living it, picked at a biography or two, and then stagnated again. I tried some short fiction, including some absurdist porn in the personal pursuit of fresh adjectives, but that wasn’t really what I meant to be doing. The goal was novels.

A youtuber kept coming across my feed. She’s repeatedly given signs of a tenderness I do not possess as a human being, but I’m into my gathering of perspectives in full-blast Gemini mode, so I listened to what she had to say about some books she read. She gave a simplistic rating scale, including whether things were scary and “spicy”. I don’t trust anyone’s account of what scary or sexy is, but I was listening specifically for those. I gathered a few more potential future reads, thrown into the collection of book-reading ideas that have gone nowhere past research.

Clicking on Verity was to check to make sure it was technologically readable, since I’ve made that mistake before. I’m not sure why now I actually read anything past thinking “yep, that’s English”. But it felt familiar. The main character’s mom just died after she’s spent a while caring for her, so, weird. How’d I end up here in my escapism? Not much happens in that first chapter beyond some scene-setting and character introductions after a catalyst event, but it ends on a cliffhanger. While intriguing, not enough. Thrillers are not my cup of tea… but what the fuck do I know anymore. The whole reason I’m here is because I don’t know. Still, I left it alone to go focus on the million other things.

Maybe a week later, I went back. And I was little confused, trying to make sense of the apparent genre classifications that didn’t feel apparent beyond the first chapter. But it arrives, gradually, then suddenly.

I got distracted early on by the basic plot of the book. It’s about a writer hired to ghost write another author’s book. I got to thinking about how wonderfully synchronistic that is when I have Jupiter transiting my 9th house (publishing) just now, conjunct my Mercury when I grabbed the book then Sun when I started actually reading it. I’m a 9th house Gemini. It’s about two authors. Wild how that ended up being the choice of book just now.

Further reading, it’s strangely reflective of other things in my chart and life. It echoes recent words I’ve put down, pulling similar ideas into different contexts. The other author’s words in the book might as well be my Scorpio Moon, presently squared by transiting Pluto: Obsessive thoughts, over-focus on shitty things, taking things to their lower limits and putting on a blank face while it goes on because the alternative sucks. I ended up thinking about how I’ve never had an original thought or experience in my life, how humans be humaning and we can never escape it. As one does.

It takes a minute to show up, but there’s a lot of matter-of-fact sex in this book. Intellectually I feel like I’m supposed to be titillated, one way or the other, somehow; the focus is quite female gaze without outright screaming “FOREARMS!”. But much of it feels factual, even mechanical, and less experienced. It’s like someone telling a story three days later rather than being in that person’s body (which is, basically, what it is… until it isn’t, and then it feels like the most oddly mechanical, Sahara Desert display yet). So the “spicy” element, while there, is a bit lost on me. However, it could just be me, because, you know. I’m confused by how the human brain ends up interpreting things as sexual. The delayed BJ thing was fantastic, at least. But mostly it feels like porn for people who don’t read or watch porn… which may be a pretty fair assessment of popular book genre readers. And maybe the cleanliness is a reflection of knowing the audience. We don’t talk about wet pussies and the sound of macaroni around these parts, no sir. No switching wigs in the book, guys.

Rewatching the video: ha. I definitely got it because the youtuber was disturbed by the “spice” level. It wasn’t that spicy. Why am I using this word? It was porn lite. Loads of sex, just not especially vivid most of the time.

The thriller element to the book felt on par with a Lifetime movie mixed with something like Gone Girl. I also had Hereditary thoughts, minus the horror element of that movie. Jane Erye also came to mind, though it’s been a long time and I’m not sure the specifics. In any case, there’s fucky minds and fucky results, a man is at the center of the story, and women around him are dealing with their separate issues. That reads wrong: it’s a woman-focused story, but the major events come about due to a particular man’s existence. All the same, I could see the Lifetime crowd of yore eating this up. That doesn’t make it bad, just familiar.

The ending was… a thing, yes. It’s meant to be disturbing, and yes, it succeeded. It’s also a bit frustrating because of what it implies after the story ends. I can see why it ended as it did, but it still feels like there were other, better options here. But the whole book is like that. How come it takes the protagonist so long to get through her obvious need to know what she wants to know? And why are we questioning the choices of fictional characters trapped in a make-believe universe, anyway? Said like a true horror fan. Just here for the ride! el oh el. *brain seizes in acceptance of The Whatever* Art, amirite?

All the same, after the first chapter, I read this whole book in two days, so it obviously kept me intrigued. The writer did a fine job at that for sure. Attention grabbed and escapism obtained. Win!

Whether I’ll read another thriller or romantic thriller remains to be seen, but that I read anything bigger than 10 pages not my own work is a miracle I’d like to continue, so if that’s what hits when I next think to read something, I guess that’s what happens.

Now I’m going to go cry at other reviews of this book. “Graphic sex scenes”? It’s fun when 17 year olds and christian-affiliated people write stuff on the internet, isn’t it.