Skip to main content

Dark Places: A Novel
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Summary:
I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ.

Libby Day was seven when her mother and two sisters were murdered in “The Satan Sacrifice of Kinnakee, Kansas.” As her family lay dying, little Libby fled their tiny farmhouse into the freezing January snow. She lost some fingers and toes, but she survived–and famously testified that her fifteen-year-old brother, Ben, was the killer. Twenty-five years later, Ben sits in prison, and troubled Libby lives off the dregs of a trust created by well-wishers who’ve long forgotten her.

 The Kill Club is a macabre secret society obsessed with notorious crimes. When they locate Libby and pump her for details–proof they hope may free Ben–Libby hatches a plan to profit off her tragic history. For a fee, she’ll reconnect with the players from that night and report her findings to the club... and maybe she’ll admit her testimony wasn’t so solid after all.

 As Libby’s search takes her from shabby Missouri strip clubs to abandoned Oklahoma tourist towns, the narrative flashes back to January 2, 1985. The events of that day are relayed through the eyes of Libby’s doomed family members–including Ben, a loner whose rage over his shiftless father and their failing farm have driven him into a disturbing friendship with the new girl in town. Piece by piece, the unimaginable truth emerges, and Libby finds herself right back where she started–on the run from a killer.

Favorite Quotes:
“I am, I guess, depressed. I guess I've been depressed for about twenty-four years. I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there - hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen within my stunted, childish body - a Libby that's telling me to get up, do something, grow up, move on. But the meanness usually wins out.

My Thoughts: I'm the first to admit I like things a bit dark and twisted, which is part of why I love Flynn's writing so much. It's gritty and at times disturbing. Add to that the spectacular way in which she weaves a story into a mystery and I'm in heaven.

Libby's childlike thought patterns, her awkwardness make her an unusual choice for a narrator. She's not the most likable character, but she grows on you, worms her way into your heart the same way that her story haunts you- relentlessly. Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, it's the hope that shines through at the end that I most loved.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Teaser Tuesday - April 14th

"My mother would never let the hearth die in her home," Margret said. She felt Agnes turn to look at her, but didn't meet her gaze. "She believed that as long as a light burned in the house, the Devil couldn't get in. Not even during the witching hour." Agnes was quiet. "What do you believe?" she asked eventually. Margret extended her hands towards the flames. "I think a fire is a useful thing to keep a body warm," she said. - Burial Rites by Hannah Kent Teaser Tuesday is  hosted by MizB at Should Be Reading . For other contributions click here .

Teaser Tuesday

Teaser Tuesday because Becca 's quote from Catcher in the Rye makes me wonder what my  problem with that book is. Teaser Tuesday is  hosted by MizB at Should Be Reading . Grab your current read. Let the book fall open to a random page. Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page. You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve  given! The various images bounced against each other until she felt a desperate vertigo, as if she could at any moment pitch backward and plunge head first down the well shaft and drown there, the sky far above her, her last vision but a bright circle set in the dark, no bigger than a full moon.  (p. 49) --  Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier

Vancouver 2014: Camping!

Camping is one of those things that's hard to share via picture, moving or still.  It's so much about the experience, the stars overhead, the springy soft ground underfoot, the wind on your face, that first pure hint of morning light, meals cooked by fire and ember. Sure there are the stories you tell, the ones around the campfire and down at the lake, and the ones you tell after, but it's not the same.  Stories can conjure memories and emotions but they can't make the sun shine or moths fall from overhead lights.  Okay, maybe the last one, moths are sneaky, but the rest, these personal moments and experiences, they're a lot harder to convey.  I'll leave it at I had an absolutely amazing time, despite the lack of nonrock based floors and comfortable chairs, I would have turned right around and done it again.  The lack of technology was restful and the presence of that much nature was restorative.  We mostly relaxed but I did get to see some amazing sights and