Book-It '21! Book #10: "The Whole Truth" by Nancy Pickard
The all new 50 Books Challenge!
Title: The Whole Truth by Nancy Pickard
Details: Copyright 2000, Simon and Schuster Inc
Synopsis (By Way of Back Cover): "NANCY PICKARD debuts an unforgettable heroine in this bestselling masterpiece of psychological suspense THE WHOLE TRUTH
Ted Bundy. Hannibal Lector. Florida killer Raymond Raintree has been compared to the most notorious of monsters, be they real or imagined. But the crime Raintree stands trial for-- the brutal murder of Natalie Mae McCullen- is all too real. For gutsy true-crime writer Marie Lightfoot, a reluctant celebrity in her own right, the case is the stuff of her next surefire bestseller.
But some of the evidence has made Marie wonder... and she is lured to retrace the dark night on a lonely waterway where Natalie disappeared. The deeper the steely-nerved writer digs, the more she must face the dark recesses of her own past-- and the bottomless darkness inside a killer's heart of pure evil..."
Why I Wanted to Read It: The last thriller I read was... well, it certainly was a published book, and I wanted to kind of try another to wash the taste of the last out of my brain.
How I Liked It: First, tell me something. Have you ever watched a movie that started out enjoyable or got enjoyable, but the last third or so just plain sucked? More likely, have you ever gotten into a TV show only to have the wheels come off from it either gradually, spectacularly, or both by the end of the series run? Maybe you even like the movie or TV show enough to only rewatch the first part or to a certain season. Books can be like that, too.
This book isn't.... quite like that, but we'll get to that.
I have to admit I didn't realize this was the first in series, which explains some later action I'm going to talk about.
This is the story of a true crime author that was clearly influenced (at least in some way) by late, legendary true crime writer and activist Ann Rule. Which is a kind of fascinating way to look at a murder mystery, rather than from a detective or the victim's family.
The book has an interesting framing device. The book the fictional true crime author, Marie Lightfoot, will write about the case runs along (generally chapter by chapter) with the main action, told from Lightfoot's point of view. The writing is distinctly different (but without the fictional true crime book being over the top, which many real life true crime books absolutely are) and it's an interesting insight into how exactly true crime authors get access and where and how they draw the line.
And what case is Marie Lightfoot covering in her first outing that we're witnessing? The book opens with the murder trial of Ray Raintree, a Florida man (er-- so to speak) with oddly no history, no legal identification, nothing, accused of the heinous murder of a child, a six-year-old girl found by a couple out boating one morning.
Except that as Marie researches the story, she learns Ray Raintree's actual backstory and the truth of the crime and it's hideous and genuinely interesting without being too over the top or implausible (and if you've read/watched a lot about true crime, you may even recognize elements of real life cases the author borrowed).
Running alongside the central action, we establish our main character. Turns out Marie Lightfoot is a pseudonym and the true crime author got into her line of work because of the disappearance of her parents as a baby, a case that's still (you guessed it) unsolved. We have several tantalizing clues in that direction, but given this is an ongoing series, no resolution.
So what do I mean exactly by a book taking a turn?
Well, up until a certain point, this book is genuinely wonderfully suspenseful with unexpected twists, the dramatic reveals aren't cheap and are fairly believable, and the "two books" conceit really works, particularly when we hear what the author choose to leave out in her book and why (which thus changes two central characters for us, at least a bit). The exploration of ethics of journalism of this sort and risking becoming part of the story are genuinely interesting to explore, and maybe it's because I don't read a lot of crime fiction for reasons I've discussed in previous reviews, but this angle seemed novel to me and that much more enjoyable. I was getting a pleasant Gillian Flynn vibe, particularly in some of the skewering of some staples of popular culture.
Right up until we reached the crescendo of the action, that is.
Okay, another analogy!
Are you familiar with cop shows on television? Particularly of a certain era? Right at the action, the crime is solved/unveiled usually with the main character explaining the mystery and/or the villain revealing everything, the main character is unharmed, and everything is back in place to go back as it was in time for next week's episode.
Imagine if what's generally considered to be the masterpiece (and anomaly) of the genre, The Wire, stopped the clever pacing, sharp characterization and dialog, and at the end of each episode, reset the show. I wouldn't call this book on par with The Wire, but I do know that I felt robbed quite a bit when for the last seventeen pages or so of the book, the action that had been heretofore more or less carefully paced was suddenly tied up almost immediately. There's also a resolution for one character in particular whose journey and backstory had been carefully built with the reader and ultimately feels sacrificed in service to a quick, tidy ending, and the other characters (with whom we've also built an attachment) in that storyline along with it.
Perhaps I'm not judging fairly. This book was written twenty years ago, and maybe the market then would only tolerate a series, rather than stand-alones, and the author had to make this work as a series. But wouldn't have been possible to get a satisfying, fleshed out ending in service to the characters and still look forward to Marie Lightfoot's next adventure?
So like with the first part of a good movie that flattens, or a promising TV show that loses its groove after a certain season, you can't help but think what might have been had they managed to stick the landing.
Notable: Given that this book is over twenty years old and forensics have increased exponentially in the past few years alone, I was surprised at the relatively few (that stood out to me, anyway) markers that pointed to this book being dated (it was published in 2000 and the story is set in 1998). This story could've been set in the present fairly easily.
Also notable, given how much attention Florida gets in this book, I made a crack about Florida man above, but really, how old is that concept? It's existed for awhile, but how long is awhile?
The main character drops this when entertaining crucial guests to a case:
Foolishly, I'm thinking they might like to do some sightseeing. Maybe I can be excused for thinking that, because I love my hometown so much I want everyone else to enjoy it, too. Already I know that they think it's too hot and sticky down here, and they're afraid of our crime.
Lots of people feel that way, a sentiment to which I would have a knee-jerk defensive reaction: Well, of course, what rational person wouldn't prefer shoveling snow to the bother of washing sand off your feet? Its so annoying to have to keep that hose in the yard, right? As for our crime, not all of it's horrible, some of it's hilarious in its own warped Florida way. My favorite is a gang of transvestites who stole courturier clothing from retail shops some years ago. When caught, they were wearing the evidence. As Dave Barry, one of our famous south Florida writers says, I'm not making this up. And as Carl Hiaasen, one of our famous novelists says, in south Florida fiction is just nonfiction waiting to happen. (pg 308)
The questionable terminology aside there ("gang of transvestites"? Uh, that's a yikes), Florida had a rep long before Florida Man had a meme. Interestingly, Dave Barry himself (a New York state native that transferred to Florida) in his 2015 book Best. State. Ever.: A Florida Man Defends His Homeland, opines Florida started getting its reputation around the 2000 Presidential election, but this proves it was earlier.
Final Grade: B-
DON'T FORGET I'M ON BLOGSPOT NOW!
Title: The Whole Truth by Nancy Pickard
Details: Copyright 2000, Simon and Schuster Inc
Synopsis (By Way of Back Cover): "NANCY PICKARD debuts an unforgettable heroine in this bestselling masterpiece of psychological suspense THE WHOLE TRUTH
Ted Bundy. Hannibal Lector. Florida killer Raymond Raintree has been compared to the most notorious of monsters, be they real or imagined. But the crime Raintree stands trial for-- the brutal murder of Natalie Mae McCullen- is all too real. For gutsy true-crime writer Marie Lightfoot, a reluctant celebrity in her own right, the case is the stuff of her next surefire bestseller.
But some of the evidence has made Marie wonder... and she is lured to retrace the dark night on a lonely waterway where Natalie disappeared. The deeper the steely-nerved writer digs, the more she must face the dark recesses of her own past-- and the bottomless darkness inside a killer's heart of pure evil..."
Why I Wanted to Read It: The last thriller I read was... well, it certainly was a published book, and I wanted to kind of try another to wash the taste of the last out of my brain.
How I Liked It: First, tell me something. Have you ever watched a movie that started out enjoyable or got enjoyable, but the last third or so just plain sucked? More likely, have you ever gotten into a TV show only to have the wheels come off from it either gradually, spectacularly, or both by the end of the series run? Maybe you even like the movie or TV show enough to only rewatch the first part or to a certain season. Books can be like that, too.
This book isn't.... quite like that, but we'll get to that.
I have to admit I didn't realize this was the first in series, which explains some later action I'm going to talk about.
This is the story of a true crime author that was clearly influenced (at least in some way) by late, legendary true crime writer and activist Ann Rule. Which is a kind of fascinating way to look at a murder mystery, rather than from a detective or the victim's family.
The book has an interesting framing device. The book the fictional true crime author, Marie Lightfoot, will write about the case runs along (generally chapter by chapter) with the main action, told from Lightfoot's point of view. The writing is distinctly different (but without the fictional true crime book being over the top, which many real life true crime books absolutely are) and it's an interesting insight into how exactly true crime authors get access and where and how they draw the line.
And what case is Marie Lightfoot covering in her first outing that we're witnessing? The book opens with the murder trial of Ray Raintree, a Florida man (er-- so to speak) with oddly no history, no legal identification, nothing, accused of the heinous murder of a child, a six-year-old girl found by a couple out boating one morning.
Except that as Marie researches the story, she learns Ray Raintree's actual backstory and the truth of the crime and it's hideous and genuinely interesting without being too over the top or implausible (and if you've read/watched a lot about true crime, you may even recognize elements of real life cases the author borrowed).
Running alongside the central action, we establish our main character. Turns out Marie Lightfoot is a pseudonym and the true crime author got into her line of work because of the disappearance of her parents as a baby, a case that's still (you guessed it) unsolved. We have several tantalizing clues in that direction, but given this is an ongoing series, no resolution.
So what do I mean exactly by a book taking a turn?
Well, up until a certain point, this book is genuinely wonderfully suspenseful with unexpected twists, the dramatic reveals aren't cheap and are fairly believable, and the "two books" conceit really works, particularly when we hear what the author choose to leave out in her book and why (which thus changes two central characters for us, at least a bit). The exploration of ethics of journalism of this sort and risking becoming part of the story are genuinely interesting to explore, and maybe it's because I don't read a lot of crime fiction for reasons I've discussed in previous reviews, but this angle seemed novel to me and that much more enjoyable. I was getting a pleasant Gillian Flynn vibe, particularly in some of the skewering of some staples of popular culture.
Right up until we reached the crescendo of the action, that is.
Okay, another analogy!
Are you familiar with cop shows on television? Particularly of a certain era? Right at the action, the crime is solved/unveiled usually with the main character explaining the mystery and/or the villain revealing everything, the main character is unharmed, and everything is back in place to go back as it was in time for next week's episode.
Imagine if what's generally considered to be the masterpiece (and anomaly) of the genre, The Wire, stopped the clever pacing, sharp characterization and dialog, and at the end of each episode, reset the show. I wouldn't call this book on par with The Wire, but I do know that I felt robbed quite a bit when for the last seventeen pages or so of the book, the action that had been heretofore more or less carefully paced was suddenly tied up almost immediately. There's also a resolution for one character in particular whose journey and backstory had been carefully built with the reader and ultimately feels sacrificed in service to a quick, tidy ending, and the other characters (with whom we've also built an attachment) in that storyline along with it.
Perhaps I'm not judging fairly. This book was written twenty years ago, and maybe the market then would only tolerate a series, rather than stand-alones, and the author had to make this work as a series. But wouldn't have been possible to get a satisfying, fleshed out ending in service to the characters and still look forward to Marie Lightfoot's next adventure?
So like with the first part of a good movie that flattens, or a promising TV show that loses its groove after a certain season, you can't help but think what might have been had they managed to stick the landing.
Notable: Given that this book is over twenty years old and forensics have increased exponentially in the past few years alone, I was surprised at the relatively few (that stood out to me, anyway) markers that pointed to this book being dated (it was published in 2000 and the story is set in 1998). This story could've been set in the present fairly easily.
Also notable, given how much attention Florida gets in this book, I made a crack about Florida man above, but really, how old is that concept? It's existed for awhile, but how long is awhile?
The main character drops this when entertaining crucial guests to a case:
Foolishly, I'm thinking they might like to do some sightseeing. Maybe I can be excused for thinking that, because I love my hometown so much I want everyone else to enjoy it, too. Already I know that they think it's too hot and sticky down here, and they're afraid of our crime.
Lots of people feel that way, a sentiment to which I would have a knee-jerk defensive reaction: Well, of course, what rational person wouldn't prefer shoveling snow to the bother of washing sand off your feet? Its so annoying to have to keep that hose in the yard, right? As for our crime, not all of it's horrible, some of it's hilarious in its own warped Florida way. My favorite is a gang of transvestites who stole courturier clothing from retail shops some years ago. When caught, they were wearing the evidence. As Dave Barry, one of our famous south Florida writers says, I'm not making this up. And as Carl Hiaasen, one of our famous novelists says, in south Florida fiction is just nonfiction waiting to happen. (pg 308)
The questionable terminology aside there ("gang of transvestites"? Uh, that's a yikes), Florida had a rep long before Florida Man had a meme. Interestingly, Dave Barry himself (a New York state native that transferred to Florida) in his 2015 book Best. State. Ever.: A Florida Man Defends His Homeland, opines Florida started getting its reputation around the 2000 Presidential election, but this proves it was earlier.
Final Grade: B-
DON'T FORGET I'M ON BLOGSPOT NOW!