Everyone and their mother has read Gone Girl, the third novel from writer Gillian Flynn. It’s been on my to read list forever, like every other book it feels like because I don’t get to read much these days. Between trying to get through some of my own writing and work, and chasing after a very active 4yo, I have time for little else. I used to read on my way to work, but I’ve been using that time more and more lately to scroll through my Blackberry to make sure I am caught up on everything before I get to the office, and to scroll through my Blackberry on the way home to make sure I don’t miss anything after I leave the office. I know, it’s not a healthy routine to get into. Its pathetic in fact. But alas, I am not a famous writer nor millionairess, so I, like scores of others, must work hard during the day, while leaving my writing to the evening hours when I should be sleeping. But I digress…
I did finally do something I haven’t in awhile. I used a few travel hours to power through a book that had been on my reading list since my friend gave it to me after powering through it on her own travels a few months back. And it wasn’t Gone Girl. It was however, Flynn’s debut novel Sharp Objects, and all I can say is – wow, holy shit, this book was incredible!
Flynn’s writing is crisp, witty, sharp and enigmatic, and everything I wish my writing was. I may be selling myself short, but I often wonder why I can’t write the way I think or the way I speak. When I put my fingers to the keyboard, something always seems to get lost in translation.Not that I am dissatisfied with my words. I’m not. Sure I think I can do better. All writers do. But Flynn is in a league all her own. It’s no wonder her first three novels have won rave reviews the story is that good and her writing, the way she tells it, that incredible.
The dozens of reviews on her site, including high praise from the master of creep himself Stephen King, speak highly of this wickedly twisted thriller that does indeed as he says, stay with you “after the lights were out…in my head, coiled and hissing, like a snake in a cave.” Its dirty, nasty, gritty, psychological wickedness that is beyond comprehension. At same time, so believable, the characters so real, they haunt you long after you’ve finished the book.
I don’t know what else to say other than read it. Do it now.