Have you ever picked up a book that you just couldn’t put down, even as it sent chills down your spine? That’s exactly what happened to me with Jennifer Hillier’s “Things We Do in the Dark.” As I cracked open the cover, I had no idea I was about to embark on a literary journey that would keep me up for nights on end, both reading and pondering its dark twists.
I stumbled upon this gem in an unexpected way. Picture this: I’m at my local bookstore, browsing the thriller section, when I overhear two women passionately discussing a book they’d just finished. Their animated conversation piqued my curiosity, and before I knew it, I was clutching my very own copy of “Things We Do in the Dark.” Little did I know, this impulse purchase would lead me down a rabbit hole of psychological suspense that I wouldn’t soon forget.
From the very first page, Hillier’s writing gripped me like a vice. The opening scene, where Paris Peralta is arrested for her celebrity husband’s murder, is so vividly written that I could almost feel the cold metal of the handcuffs. But it’s not just the murder that hooks you – it’s the palpable dread surrounding Paris’s hidden past. As a writer myself, I couldn’t help but admire Hillier’s ability to create such immediate tension.
The dual timeline structure of the novel is nothing short of masterful. Jumping between Paris’s present predicament and Ruby Reyes’s past conviction, Hillier weaves a complex tapestry of secrets and lies. I found myself completely absorbed, losing track of time as I flipped page after page. There were nights when I’d look up from the book, startled to find that hours had passed and the sun was already peeking through my curtains.
One of the things that struck me most about this book was the depth of its characters. Paris, in particular, is a fascinating study in reinvention and the lengths one will go to escape their past. There’s a line that’s still echoing in my mind: “The things we do in the dark will eventually come to light.” It’s haunting in its simplicity, encapsulating the novel’s central theme and speaking to that universal fear we all have of our secrets being exposed.
Hillier’s prose is like a finely honed blade – sharp, precise, and capable of cutting deep. Her descriptions of Seattle and Toronto are so vivid that I felt transported, despite never having visited either city. There’s a particular scene set in a dingy Toronto apartment that was so atmospheric, I swear I could smell the musty air and hear the creaking floorboards.
However, I must admit that at times, the darkness of the subject matter became almost overwhelming. Hillier doesn’t pull any punches when exploring themes of abuse and trauma. There were moments when I had to put the book down and take a breather, reminding myself that it’s just fiction. But perhaps that’s a testament to Hillier’s skill in creating such a visceral reading experience.
As someone who’s dabbled in writing thrillers myself, I found myself taking mental notes throughout the book. Hillier’s ability to plant seeds of doubt and suspicion is truly impressive. Just when I thought I had figured out where the story was going, she’d throw in a twist that left me reeling. It’s inspired me to push myself further in my own writing, to dig deeper into the psychological motivations of my characters.
One aspect of the book that particularly resonated with me was its exploration of identity. As someone who’s reinvented myself several times throughout my life – from a shy bookworm to a published author – I found Paris’s struggle to reconcile her past and present selves deeply relatable. It made me reflect on my own journey and the parts of myself I’ve left behind.
If I had to nitpick, I’d say that the pacing in the middle section lagged slightly. There were a few chapters where I felt the story could have been tightened up a bit. But this is a minor quibble in an otherwise gripping read.
By the time I turned the last page, I felt both exhilarated and emotionally drained. “Things We Do in the Dark” is not just a thrilling read; it’s a thought-provoking exploration of the human psyche. It forced me to confront uncomfortable truths about the nature of secrets and the lengths we go to protect ourselves.
Would I recommend this book? Absolutely, but with a caveat. This is not a light read. It’s a book that demands your full attention and emotional investment. If you’re looking for a fluffy beach read, this isn’t it. But if you’re ready for a psychological thriller that will challenge you, keep you guessing, and leave you pondering long after you’ve finished, then “Things We Do in the Dark” is a must-read.
As for me, Hillier’s masterful storytelling has reignited my passion for the thriller genre. It’s reminded me of the power of a well-crafted story to not just entertain, but to illuminate the darker corners of the human experience. And isn’t that what great literature is all about?
In the end, “Things We Do in the Dark” left me with more than just a satisfying read. It left me with questions about identity, redemption, and the weight of our past actions. It’s a book that lingers in your mind, like a shadow you can’t quite shake. And for a writer like me, it’s a masterclass in suspense that I’ll be studying for years to come.