Girl On The Train, by a dude

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

A woman witness a horrify crime, but she’s an alcoholic with a tragic, unstable past and no one believes her. She tries to investigate on her own, but she’s got only her own shaky memory to go on and the cops just wish she would go away. In the end she’s proven right all along.

I mean, right?

The agoraphobia of the main character is really all that differentiates it from the rest of the recent “unstable woman thriller” that have been so hot lately. That, and, this one was written by a dude, for the worse. I couldn’t have been more than five chapters in when I got to the obligatory “nude self-examination in the mirror” chapter that are so utterly unavoidable. On the plus side, I did get a virtual high five from my local library when I brought it up in their weekly Twitter chat.

Ugh it’s a struggle to get the full 250 words on this one because the book really wasn’t worth them. There’s not a reveal that isn’t telegraphed a million miles away (if after her first phone call with her husband, you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you’re right). The final whodunit isn’t even fun, I mean, aren’t thrillers supposed to have … thrills? I’d say I wished it was better, but I’ve read that book too – it was Girl on the Train. Call this one a hard miss, folks, it just ain’t worth your time.