ŷ������

I don't get it. So many readers loved this, but Daisy Darker has got to be one of the most boring thrillers I've ever read.

Why is this so boring, you ask? I'll tell you why. (Note: this is a bit of a rant, so if you loved it, please don't read this.)

The story is told via two timelines. One is in the present, where the family is gathered on the island, cut off from the rest of the world. The other is in the past, where Daisy tells the story of her life growing up. The present timeline is at least tolerable because things are happening (albeit slowly and feebly), but it's such a small part of the whole book. Instead, the majority is taken up by flashbacks of the past, and let me tell you, that was excruciating.

You know how there is always that one person at parties who corners you and tells meandering and pointless stories of mundane things that happened to them? That's the entire past timeline. We get to read about Daisy going to the beach, getting into tiffs with her sisters while filming home videos of each other, being "broken" constantly, and various other what-does-this-have-anything-to-do-with-the-story moments.

Some authors can take the most pedestrian of events and turn them into a riveting narrative. But that didn't happen here. Instead, we have the most mundane of events being presented as it it were the most exciting of nuggets. Daisy is jealous of her sisters.... oooh. There is a boy they all want... oooh. Their parents are mostly absent... oooh. I like family dysfunction as much as the next reader, but I'm not into family melodrama/nondrama.

Since Daisy is born with a heart condition, she repeatedly refers to herself as "broken." This is stated over and over throughout the story, in the most pitiful and woe-is-me way. Since I read the physical copy, I can't do a search for how many times the word "broken" is used, but it wouldn't surprise me if the answer is hundreds of times. At least that's the way it feels.

The writing style doesn't help either. It's got Feeney's trademark fortune cookie sayings, sprinkled throughout every page, as if she's dispensing wisdom that can only be gleamed if you pay enough attention.

The dead often seem to know more about living than those still alive.

The trouble with little white lies is that they sometimes grow up to become big dark ones.

Sometimes when people try too hard to be more than they are, they end up being less than they were.

Ok, I'll give you that they sound good. But what do they mean? I sure don't know.

And when we get to the big twist, I'm left disappointed. Part of it feels like a cop-out and the rest neither made sense nor surprised me. It's clear this was meant to take inspiration from And Then There Were None, and the author worked hard to shoehorn that association in. But it just ended up feeling forced.

Every time I cracked open this book, my mind wandered. I thought of chores I had to do and groceries I had to buy. When I'd rather think about menial tasks than focus on a story, I know it has missed its mark.

No doubt the premise here was exciting and that's why I got suckered in. But the execution was so painfully dull that I'm just glad I made it through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
�� Connect with me �� ��