September 2025 Reading Log
I'm trying something new here: making a list of the books I read this month so I have somewhere to talk about them. I'd like to exercise my writing muscles a little more, and I think it is often difficult to put into words the specifics of what makes a book good or bad or mediocre. (There are books from all three of those categories in this list, by the way!)
The Boyfriend by Freida McFadden
Speaking of the bad... I want to say up top that I have read many of Freida McFadden's books and enjoyed them, in the same way that I enjoy a Hostess fruit pie. Is it subtle or sophisticated or finely crafted? No. Am I improved in any way by having consumed it? Probably not, and perhaps the opposite. But is it incredibly tasty and does it satisfy a specific craving? Yes, absolutely. Freida McFadden's books are popcorn thrillers, and I love a popcorn thriller. My family is well aware of this because I enjoy texting them ridiculous quotes and plot points from whichever one I'm currently reading.
For those who have never read a McFadden thriller, they never fail to deliver on certain points:
- Vague in-media-res prologue where someone (whose identity is obscured) is alarmed about a dead body in their vicinity, or waiting for the police to arrest them, and it's written so you think the someone is the murderer but really it's too vague to tell.
- The story itself, which will absolutely beat you over the head with repetition of every detail and every action that the narrator decides to take. McFadden will show, and then immediately tell you what you were supposed to understand from what she showed.
- The narrator's voice: casual, jokey even in dire situations, self-deprecating. Painfully naive or ludicrously suspicious, depending on which the plot requires.
- The final page twist. There will be twists earlier than that, but McFadden loves to squeeze in one major twist at the last moment to end the book with a bang.
I don't think this formula would work without the twists. The twists are the reason to keep reading, because the writing itself is mediocre at best. I think ending on a big twist is a really smart move, because then (if you don't see it coming) you end the book thinking "oh wow, I never even thought of that, how does that change everything I've read so far if that was true all along?" It would be interesting to go back and reread one of these books knowing all the twists, to analyze if the reveal was set up in any way for the careful reader to pick up on-- but that's a topic for another post.
Now that I've gotten the McFadden disclaimer out of the way, on to The Boyfriend. Unfortunately, I have comparatively little to say about this novel specifically. It was fine, I guess, by the standard I've laid out above. If you enjoy McFadden's books, you'll probably like it, and if you don't, then don't bother. It's a dime-a-dozen domestic thriller: a woman thinks her new boyfriend might be a killer, but is he? There is a back-and-forth between present and past viewpoints, so you as the reader are given information that the main protagonist is not privy to, and I think it kills some of the suspense. You know pretty early on that her fears are likely justified to some degree, so it's just a matter of learning the full truth of the situation. There are some clear red herrings that I thought were executed reasonably well, and I didn't guess the major twist of the book. Overall, it was a fine way to pass the time, but it hasn't left a lasting impression on me. Next!
The Crash by Freida McFadden
This book, on the other hand, may be the worst Freida McFadden book I've read yet— which is saying something. In several of her books, McFadden falls into the trap of writing something clearly inspired by a more skillful work. She's done it with Psycho (Do Not Disturb), Lolita (The Teacher), and now Stephen King's Misery with The Crash. I haven't read Misery, but at a basic level the plots are very similar: a lone traveler suffers an incapacitating injury during a blizzard in a remote location and is "rescued" by someone who turns out to be violent and obsessed.
That similarity alone wouldn't be enough for me to criticize the book— there are plenty of excellent books that put their own spin on previous works in a way that is genuinely original— but unfortunately The Crash is also very bad when judged solely on its own merits. The characters are not believable, with the protagonist in particular vacillating wildly from gullible to suspicious as the plot requires. As I mentioned above, McFadden's narrators tend to share a very similar voice, and this book is no exception. Even when the villain is narrating, their voice has the same forced lightness as the other characters. An example that I found particularly grating: "I've had enough of this tomfoolery!" is one character's response to being stabbed. I read these books because bad thrillers are a fun way to relax without thinking too much, but this book wasn't even that fun; it just felt like a long slog. Would not recommend even to those who enjoy McFadden. It did make me want to read Misery, though, to see how it compares.
Ghost Wall by Sarah Moss
This is a short novel about a girl whose abusive father has dragged his family along on an anthropological excursion to live like ancient Britons. I got this recommendation from the only booktuber whose literary opinions I trust, Frankie's shelf, who made the following point: the characterization of the abusive father is so thorough that you feel the same tension that the protagonist does, because you develop a sense of how the father is going to react to even the smallest things. It was such a breath of fresh air after two McFaddens to read a book like Ghost Wall; it is beautifully written and feels so dense with meaning that is shown rather than told in the best way. It doesn't force-feed you its themes, but they spring up as naturally and vibrantly as dandelions from the prose. It's very short and very good, and I think you should read it.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata
Keiko is an autistic-coded convenience store worker who finds great satisfaction in the consistent routines and structure of her job, even though everyone around her is disturbed by the fact that she's not pursuing traditional career or relationship goals. As someone who worked in a convenience store for several years and found great satisfaction in the consistent routines and structure of the job... I was not prepared for how relatable this book was. It captures so accurately the feeling of belonging that comes from being given a repeatable task and then getting really good at it. Keiko's imitation of other people's voices and mannerisms also hit home, especially when, despite the tremendous effort she puts in to appear "normal," she does not manage to meet the social expectations that others seem to manage effortlessly. She is deeply weird in ways beyond her love for the convenience store, and yet I felt more at home in Keiko's head than I do in just about any neurotypical-coded narrator. Convenience Store Woman has my unreserved recommendation.
Room by Emma Donoghue
I listened to this novel as an audiobook (as I do with most of the books I read) and I have to admit, for the first few minutes my main thought was "oh my god, are we going to have to listen to this exaggeratedly childish voice for the rest of the book?" But very quickly I got used to it, and I'm glad I stuck it out, because I really enjoyed this book. It follows a woman who has been imprisoned by a sexual predator for years, gives birth to a child while in captivity, and has to raise him in a single room for the first several years of his life. The book recounts their attempts to escape and rejoin the outside world, and it does so entirely from the five-year-old son's perspective. That's a bold decision, but I think it pays off thanks to Donoghue's skill and attention to detail. Throughout the book there were consequences (big and small) of the son's lack of exposure to the outside world that I never would have considered, and the plot manages to strike a balance of not flinching away from the trauma of the situation while still having moments that are hopeful. I also think Donoghue's characterization of the mother is excellent; she is flawed and real and you can see so clearly how she's struggling even when her son's narration doesn't explicitly pick up on it sometimes. I would recommend this book, if the premise is not too grim for you.
You by Caroline Kepnes
I am still not entirely sure what I thought of this book. The main character is a dangerously obsessed man who stalks a woman he is attempting to date. It is deeply unpleasant, yet also compelling, to be in his head. It might be giving this book too much credit, but I would compare it to Lolita; if you enjoy the experience of an author really exploring what it might be like inside the head of someone who does monstrous things, you might enjoy this one. If not, maybe give it a pass. There are sequels, but I don't think I'll be reading them; I would read another, unrelated book by Kepnes, because I think her writing skills are solid, but I just don't want to spend any more time in this guy's thoughts.
Survive the Night by Riley Sager
I was hopeful about this book, but those hopes were dashed. This book was just kind of a flop. It follows Charlie, an insufferable film student who accepts a strange man's offer of a car ride home from college and gradually becomes convinced that the man is actually the serial killer who recently murdered her best friend. In a thriller where your main character's life is in peril, you generally want the audience to root for the protagonist and feel anxious for their safety. It's tough to do that when Charlie says, among other things, that she doesn't like people who list The Sound of Music as their favorite movie. Great, I like the Sound of Music, so should I just stop reading then? It's not just that one moment, unfortunately. Charlie likes Hitchcock movies and she's seen Jaws twenty times, and there's an undertone to her dialogue that makes it seem like she thinks she's better than everyone else because of these things. It's not necessarily unrealistic (insufferable college students certainly exist in the real world), but it's not endearing either.
The twists also felt cheap. I'm trying to keep these reviews spoiler-free, which makes it tough to express what I mean, but there are times when you are put into a character's head and their own thoughts indicate one thing, and then later on you find out that they had different motivations which somehow didn't appear in their own thoughts during the time they were narrating. There is a scene later on which maybe somewhat tries to justify why this is, but it didn't work well enough. I think in more skilled hands it could have been pulled off, but here it just felt like a bait-and-switch. And the ending? I can't say much without major spoilers, but it made me mad. I just don't understand why he thought readers would enjoy that.
Finally... I'll admit, I am annoyed by the trend of cis men using an ambiguously gendered pen name when writing thrillers targeted at women. I'm of two minds on this, because on one hand, if someone wants to use their pen name for a little gender exploration, I'm all for that. But in the cases I've seen recently of men writing thrillers under names that could plausibly belong to women, it feels more like a calculated marketing move to attract a female audience, and I think it's a bit of a cheap trick.
Look Closer by David Ellis
I decided to read this book solely because it is a thriller set in Chicago, and I live in Chicago, and I think it's kind of fun when books are set in real places that I have been to. Look Closer is about a law professor who gets tangled up in a murder case. It's full of torrid affairs and sordid histories and it gradually becomes a sort of cat and mouse game between the detective and culprit. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the book to me was the use of technological evidence. A significant plot point relies on data that the police can retrieve from people's phones, and the protagonist is a law professor who specializes in the Fourth Amendment. I feel like I haven't often seen these kinds of details in similar books, and I thought it made this novel stand out from the average generic thriller.
On the negative side, I think what bothered me the most about it was the pacing. Rather than a big twist towards the end, you get a series of smaller reveals that slowly let you see what has been going on the whole time. In theory I think that could be a really neat approach, but in this book it just felt as though the stakes were being raised and then lowered again as the author would introduce inconsistencies and then resolve them shortly afterwards by unveiling more information. This book does something similar to Survive the Night, where you are getting unreliable narration from certain characters without realizing it. Look Closer does pull it off more convincingly, but I think the reveal of the characters' true nature could have been delayed a bit to create a more satisfying payoff.
Overall I was not wildly impressed by this book, but it was a fine read. It's entirely possible that it was just clashing with my personal pacing preferences; this is not intended as a negative review, but more of a "meh?" And if you live in Chicago and get a kick out of books that reference your local area, then you might enjoy it just for that. Did you know that the Grant Thornton Tower used to be called the Chicago Title and Trust building? If you didn't already, you certainly will after reading this book.
This concludes my list of September reads. I might do this again next month-- it is a fun way of looking back and seeing patterns in the books I'm choosing. Happy reading!