Category Archives: Commentary

The Stranger Diaries 4th Edgar Nom

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If you love reading – and you clearly do, if you are reading this blog! – you’ll be drawn in immediately to Elly GriffithsThe Stranger Diaries.  The book’s protagonist is Clare Cassidy, a divorced single mom/high school English teacher, who aspires to write a biography of (fictional) author R.M. Holland.  The mystery centers around the death by stabbing of Clare’s colleague, Ella.  That death, and others that follow, reflect murders recounted in Holland’s short story, “The Stranger.”  In fact, Griffiths’ book opens with the beginning of that short story, in a framing device that sets the stage for the suspense that follows.

But is it a stranger who murdered Ella?  Or is it, as Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur and her partner believe, someone much closer?  There is no dearth of suspects, from Clare herself – very unlikely – to Ella’s stalkerish boss.  He looks a good bet, as he has a history of obsessive behavior.  A good bet, that is, until he is murdered as well.

Diaries play a prominent role in the book, not surprisingly.  DS Kaur examines social media – a very public kind of diary – for clues.  Clare’s daughter Georgia keeps her diary online, at a website called mysecretdiary.com, and so do her friends.  Clare has kept one since childhood, filling a series of notebooks.  In fact, the first clue that Clare has a connection of some kind to the murderer comes when she discovers a note in her diary.  It starts “Greetings from a sincere friend…” quoting Wilkie’s Woman in White, and goes on to promise to fall upon those who work agains Clare “like a ravening beast.”  The handwriting is unfamiliar.  What stranger has been in her house?  And how does he – or she – know Clare?

A nice subplot is Clare’s determination to unearth the facts behind the suggested suicide of Alice Avery, R.M. Holland’s wife, and the related question of the mysterious Mariana, whose presence comforted Holland following her death.  Thought to be their daughter, no records or photos of Mariana exist.  Hmmmmm….

Griffiths writes in first person from three different perspectives: Clare, DS Kaur, and daughter Georgie.  It works well, and I was struck by how the same scene is recounted differently by each of the three, giving the reader greater insight into the characters.  Showing the three women independently also highlights how little people really know about one another.

Suspects are presented and discarded throughout the book, the body count mounts and tension ramps up, and soon after DS Kaur encourages Clare and Georgie to leave town for their safety, the plot takes thriller-ish as the unknown bad guy follows the pair while the cops race to get there in time to stop more mayhem.  You think you know who it is… you don’t!  In a smaller and also satisfying conclusion, the Mariana mystery is also solved.

Here’s my take on The Stranger Diaries:  Griffiths is a good writer.  The three-POVs works very well.  Her characters are interesting and believable.  The literary references and creative writing scenarios add a lot of fun (for me).  The gothic aspects (hauntings, historical memorabilia, etc.) are atmospheric and heighten the drama.  The violence is not gratuitous.  One quibble is that boss Rick Lewis really get off quite lightly from the #metoo perspective (although he does get murdered, so perhaps that is punishment enough).  A more meaningful concern is that the real perpetrator is masked by the way he is presented from Georgie’s point of view, and it is hard to believe that he could fool her so completely.

So, where does The Stranger Diaries rank?  Definitely below Robotham’s masterful Good Girl, Bad Girl, but I’m going to place it above The River.  While not as lyrical as Heller, Griffiths’ writing is very effective with its multiple viewpoints and the inclusion of the original short story “by” R.M. Holland.

Side note… there is a wealth of Elly Griffiths books available, including at least one other that features Harbinder Kaur.  I’m there.

Literary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. Good Girl, Bad Girl (Michael Robotham)
  2. The Stranger Diaries (Elly Griffiths)
  3. The River (Peter Heller)
  4. Fake Like Me (Barbara Bourland)

Edgar Nom #3: Fake Like Me

fake

It’s quite an amazing thing to be an Edgar Best Novel nominee for your second book!  But that’s the case for Barbara Bourland and her suspenseful novel, Fake Like Me.  It’s pretty unusual.  It’s not a cozy whodunit, crime caper, police procedural, jeopardy-driven suspense novel, or one of the other typical mysteries.  Fake Like Me is more of a what-really-happened with a big surprise. 

Fake sets up an interesting backstory:  it’s the mid-90’s, and a talented and struggling young female artist from the wrong side of the tracks yearns for other artists’ acceptance, particularly from the glittering “Pine City” art collective centered around Carey Logan.   Jumping to today,  this unnamed protagonist is now 34 and on the cusp of something big – a private gallery show that could make her future – when her studio/apartment burns to the ground, destroying everything.  She has three months to recreate all seven of her works in total secrecy, but has little money, no supplies and no space to do it in.  Through determined networking, she wrangles an invite to… wait for it… Pine City.

But the Pine City of today features just four artists, not five, as the luminous but conflicted Carey Logan died in 2008, a suicide by drowning.   And our protagonist – let’s call her P, because she is never named in Fake Like Me – moves in to Carey’s studio.  P physically resembles Carey, is inspired by her, emulates her artistic drive, is drawn to her former lover, and is relentlessly curious about her.   And slowly, slowly, she learns the truth about Carey Logan.   I guarantee you will not see it coming.

Here are three things Bourland does very well:  First, all the art stuff.  I was drawn in to P’s reflections on art, artists, and the art market.  Plus, the sections on P’s creative process were fun and compelling.  Accurate when it comes to technique?  I have no idea, but it worked for me.

Second, the concept.  I don’t want spoil it for those who haven’t read it, but the idea at the heart of Fake Like Me is fresh and well-executed.

Third, the voice.   Fake Like Me is written in first person from P’s perspective.  P is a singular person with a strong point of view and her narration is authentic and individual.

Things not so good:  Lots of coincidences in this book.  Young P meets Carey and her posse.  Younger P has fancy-schmancy teenage friend; friend grows up to be rich, married to an art dealer, and lives near Pine City.   P looks like Carey.  P seeks studio space, only one person helps her and it’s Pine City.  P gets Carey’s studio and stumbles across clues.  Other clues are strewn throughout.  I was not sure about the necessity of P’s video/recreation of Carey’s suicide.  And finally, while P is a fully realized character, the other main characters are pretty sketched-in.

Summing up, definitely a book I would recommend, and Bourland is an author I would read again; I expect to go dig up her first book when this Edgar review process is over.  Comparing to the two previous novels reviewed for ranking purposes, Fake Like Me clearly does not take the top spot, but I’m a bit conflicted about whether it’s #2 or #3.  From a plot perspective, it’s more complex than The River, and full props for the surprise with no cheating.  Characterwise, The River has the edge for sure.  And writing quality, again The River.   Although I continue to waffle back and forth, I have to give it to The River.  I suspect that this is going to make it ranking difficult for the next two books!  

Literary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. Good Girl, Bad Girl (Michael Robotham)
  2. The River (Peter Heller)
  3. Fake Like Me (Barbara Bourland)

 

Good Girl, Bad Girl: Mesmerizing Twisty Tale

good girl

Alert:  I’m a huge Michael Robotham fan. His standalone book Life or Death was up for the 2016 Best Novel Edgar.  It didn’t win, and I ranked it fourth, right behind the actual winner, Lori Roy’s Let Me Die in His Footsteps.

He has a very popular series featuring psychologist Joe O’Loughlin, nine books at last counting.   I met the good doctor in 2012 and blogged about him while on a cruise.  Joe often works with the good but morally ambiguous Detective Vincent Ruiz, is still in love with his estranged wife, Julianne, and has Parkinson’s disease which bothers him more as the series progresses.  It’s a good series, and two of the books won the Ned Kelly Award for Australia’s Best Crime novel.  Still, the time was ripe for a new protagonist, and Robotham doesn’t disappoint.

Good Girl, Bad Girl is the Edgar-nominated first book in a new series featuring Cyrus Haven.  Cyrus is also a psychologist, but has a more dramatic backstory; while tween Cyrus cruised past his crush’s house on his bike, his older brother was murdering their parents and twin sisters.  Adult Cyrus is tattooed, lifts weights and runs to burn off excess psychic energy, eschews a cell phone in favor of a pager, and maintains a loving relationship with Lenny Pavel, the female cop – now a Chief Inspector – who questioned and comforted him after he found his family’s bodies.

That enduring Lenny connection is what gets Cyrus pulled in when a dog walker finds the body of young figure skater Jodi Sheehan, bludgeoned and sexually assaulted.   Although the physical forensics of detection are critical, Cyrus specializes in the psychological underpinnings of crime.  Throughout Good Girl, Bad Girl, Cyrus picks at the threads of Jodi’s life until he sees beyond the perfect athlete, daughter and sister to see the flawed but loving human she truly was.  In doing so, Cyrus also wades through an abundance of murder suspects.  In lesser hands, the truths that Robotham has Cyrus uncover could be simply red herrings — in this book, they add to the richness of the narrative.  What really happened to Jodi is the result of a long-buried secret.

And it’s a connection of another kind – to the psychology community  – that gets Cyrus Haven pulled in to the sad and strange case of Evie Cormac.  Six years ago, Evie was discovered hiding in a rundown building with the rotting corpse of a tortured criminal and two surprisingly well-fed Alsatian dogs.  Skinny and silent, the child known in the media as Angel Face, was of indeterminate age.   Given a new name under a legal gag order, the child now known as Evie Cormac bounced through the foster care system, ending up in big trouble in residential care after attacking another resident with a brick.

Adam Guthrie, her psychologist there, knew that Evie was more than smart – he thought she had an unerring ability to tell when someone was lying.  And here’s where Cyrus comes in – he wrote his doctoral thesis on “truth wizards.”  Adam calls Cyrus in to consult, and we go on to the adventure of learning more about Evie as they interact.  When Evie seeks to be emancipated so she can leave the foster care system, Cyrus is the only person who supports her, ultimately offering to become her foster parent until she reaches the date set by the judge.   Little by little, we see the distrust that defines Evie begin to peel away with Cyrus… but set-backs are a given, and it’s during one of those set-backs that Evie learns some facts that ultimately help Cyrus solve Jodi Sheehan’s murder.

This book is mesmerizing.  The plot is twisty but well-supported throughout.  No cheating.  The characters are complex, and Robotham is a master at the slow reveal.  At the end of Good Girl, Bad Girl, the thoughtful reader realizes that there is no such thing.  Jodi is no more 100% good than Evie is 100% bad.  And vice versa.  The writing is assured and can be very funny (to wit, the group therapy scene where Cyrus is the only one who knows that all of Evie’s revelations are word-for-word dialogue from popular movies).  There’s a cliffhanger at the end, as we realize that the scenario of “child rescued from pedophile kidnapper” might be just one more fiction.  Thank heavens that July 2020 will bring us the new Cyrus/Evie book, When She Was Good.

But how does it compare to The River?  To quote your favorite British cozy writer, they’re like chalk and cheese.  Both good!   I see The River as a slender tale, a simpler story, although rewarding.  Robotham’s book is more complex, more layered, with a lot of character and heart.  But at the end of the day, I must go for Good Girl, Bad Girl for sheer enjoyment.

mwa_logoLiterary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. Good Girl, Bad Girl (Michael Robotham)
  2. The River (Peter Heller)

 

Edgar Noms! Heller’s The River Up 1st

mwa_logoThe Mystery Writers of America Edgar nominees are out.  I missed reviewing them last year, so I’m back for 2020!  Typically I read, review and rank nominees for one, two, or three categories depending upon the time I have available for reading.  The fun – besides the obvious – comes in when I see how many of the ones I think should win, did win.  I’m not guessing who will win, so 100% is probably not an option.  In 2018, I got 50% – Edgar and I both picked Jordan Harper’s She Rides Shotgun as Best First Novel.  (Click here for my review.)  On the Best Novel front, I picked Hannah Tinti’s The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley, while Edgar chose Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke. (Reviews here.)

As always, the list of nominees include many I had not read as well as several that I did.  On the Best Novel list, the Michael Robotham and Abir Mukherjee books ring a bell.  Here’s the line-up:

riverFirst up for a Lunchbox review is Peter Heller’s The River.   The plot is simple.  Two young men with superior wilderness skills set out on an adventure and face an unexpected challenge:  can they rescue a dying woman from her murderous husband and outrun a wildfire to get her to safety?

Characterization is more complicated.  The men are different.  Jack, whose mother drowned while he watched, helpless, when he was just 11, expects tragedy.  His friend Wynn has an open heart and is innately optimistic.   It’s unsurprising and still a shock when Wynn’s essential nature is the cause of the tragedy that Jack works so hard to avoid.  Enough said.

The other people the men encounter on their river quest are revealed through their actions.  The men wonder about the husband, then must work to outwit him.  They encounter a couple of thuggish, drunken fools – but are they as foolish as they seem?  And the fire itself it a character, lurking, damaging, sending up smoke and sparks that threaten ominously depending upon which way the wind blows.

What makes The River sing is Heller’s writing.   I’m no outdoorswoman.  I like my nature in 2-3 hour chunks, not month-long hikes.  But it’s clear that Heller loves nature and has an easy intimacy with hunting, fishing, hiking, boating. And his writing is even, measured, lyrical:

The day was half gone.  They padded steadily without letup.  The wind shifted around to the west and for the first time they could se the hazy thickening of air that was not yet rolling smoke and the bird in flocks that were smaller now, and many single birds, mostly duller colored, the females, and Wynn posited that these were thee mother birds with hatchlings who had refused to leave their nests until just before the flame.  That was heartbreaking if you thought about it.

The River will quicken your pulse and may make you cry.  Take the time to read it slowly.  As Heller’s book is the first book reviewed, he enjoys the top spot for now!

mwa_logoLiterary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. The River (Peter Heller)

 

 

Squeaker: Lunchbox Best Novel Edgar

It’s Wednesday, April 25, just one day before the Mystery Writers of America Edgars Banquet, at which the MWA will be announcing the names of the 2018 Edgar award recipients.  Good news!  I have completed reading the final entry in the Best Novel category, and I’m reading to make my final pick for which author should take home the Edgar.

12 LivesThe final finalist is Hannah Tinti’s The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley, a book I had read previously and greatly enjoyed reading again.  The Samuel Hawley in question is the single father of young Loo (short for Louisa), and the small family moves from place to place.  The twelve “lives” in question are twelve scars that Hawley bears, each one the mark of a healed bullet wound and a marker of a particular time in his life, some pre-Loo, some post.  Hawley is a rough man and a criminal, but a caring one, and is deeply devoted to his daughter.

Their nomadic life comes to an end when Hawley decides to move the teenage Loo back to the town where her mother was raised and mother’s mother still lives.  With the stability also comes a blooming curiosity, and Loo begins to uncover the secrets associated with her mother’s death – in particular, her grandmother Mabel Ridge’s belief that Hawley is responsible for her daughter’s death.  And indeed he is, for although he did not kill her, it was because of him that she was killed and the murder covered up.  Loo also faces a tough time at school, and deliberately breaks the finger of Marshall Hicks, subsequently falling in love with him.

The book builds to a climax as Samuel Hawley’s youthful chickens come home to roost, when a previously vanquished foe reappears to claim vengeance, and uses a former friend of Hawley’s to do so.  Only through quick thinking and sheer guts do Loo and her father prevail.

The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley has a lot going for it – the characters are rich and believable, the framing device using the twelve bullets is very useful and effective in moving the plot forward through time, and there is a real sense of tragedy, in that the heroes are undone by the flaws that make them unique.  Tinti does an excellent job of building suspense.  Hawley is similar, in some ways, to the Jordan Harper’s She Rides Shotgun, up this year for the Edgar for Best First Novel (and it ranked #1 with me)  Both feature a criminal father, an edgy, violence-prone daughter, and a dead mother.  Tinti’s book is both deeper and broader.

Compared to the other books nominated for Best Novel, Hawley is clearly near the top of the ranking.  It’s more complex than Bluebird, Bluebird.  And while I very much enjoyed Prussian Blue, I must admit that I found The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley to be much more engaging.   I simply cared more about the characters and was literally biting my nails about what would happen next.  Therefore, Tinti takes the top spot in the Literary Lunchbox ranking.

Tomorrow evening – or first thing Friday morning – we’ll see who won the real Edgars.  If all goes as typical, I’ll be right on one of my calls, and wrong on the other.  But there is always a possibility of the MWA judges showing the good judgment to agree with me 100%, or that I’ll strike out completely.   No matter, it’s the challenge and the process that makes it fun!

mwa_logoLiterary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley by Hannah Tinti
  2. Prussian Blue by Philip Kerr
  3. Bluebird Bluebird by Attica Locke
  4. The Dime by Kathleen Kent
  5. A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee

Kerr’s Prussian Blue up next

bluePrussian Blue.  It’s 528 pages of fictional Berlin detective Bernie Gunther interacting with Nazis in (framing device) 1956 and (very meaty main plot) 1939… and I have to say, it’s the most interesting and entertaining Philip Kerr book I’ve read.   It’s the fourth book that I’m reading, reviewing and ranking in the Literary Lunchbox take on the MWA Edgar for Best Novel.

As previously mentioned, I’m generally not into historical mysteries, especially those featuring swastikas (notable exception:  The Boys From Brazil).  I’ve read two Bernie Gunther books previously, when they were up for Edgars, and generally ranked them towards the bottom of the list.  (Field Gray review  and The Lady From Zagreb here.)  In fairness to me, they didn’t win.

kerrThat situation might change this year, as, sad to say, Philip Kerr passed away recently at the age of 62.  It certainly made me want to give Prussian Blue a full and fair reading, which meant slowing down, and paying especially close attention.  So that’s what I did.  It paid off.

The book begins in 1956 on the French Riviera, with our smart-and-jaded Bernie working as a hotel detective, still hoping for a reconciliation with his estranged wife when he gets an invitation to meet her for dinner.  He goes and is surprised to find that his dinner companion is not his wife, but a long-time enemy, Erich Mielke, now deputy head of Stasi, the East Germany Security Service.  Mielke wants Bernie to poison a former colleague in order to tie up some loose ends from a previous situation, but Bernie’s smart enough to know that even if he accedes to the request, he’ll become the next “loose end” requiring tying up.  Mielke’s thugs – including Frederich Korsch, a man Bernie knew well back in the day – bring him to the brink of death to secure his cooperation, but this only makes stubborn Bernie determined not to do their bidding.  He goes on the run.  While making his escape, Bernie reflects upon a previous case that brought him close to Hitler himself, even as Germany was readied for the attack on Poland that would launch WWII.

Fade to April, 1939.  A man has been shot on the terrace at Hitler’s private home at Berchtesgaden.  It’s critical to solve the murder and ensure security before Hitler arrives there for his 50th birthday celebration.  Nazi boss Reinhard Heydrich assigns Commissar Gunther – a smart, honest cop – to solve the crime.  On arrival, Bernie finds that he must please Martin Bormann, who runs the show.  It’s soon clear that there is no failure allowed – the crime will be solved, either by finding the killer, or fitting one up. 

Bernie’s not surprised to find that the dead man, a local engineer named Karl Flex, is incredibly unpopular with the locals, throwing people out of their homes in forced sales at bargain basement prices, strong-arming the local whores, and serving as Bormann’s bag man on cash runs to Switzerland.  The entire enclave is a money machine for Bormann and his crew.  These facts come out over time, and offer Bernie and his assistants, Frederich Korsch and local SS Capt. Hermann Kaspel, a plethora of potential murderers.  And it soon becomes clear that there are some that would prefer to see Bernie fail, as there is more than one attempt on his life.  When Kaspel is killed in a rigged car wreck when Bernie should have been with him, Bernie knows he must be making progress.

Bernie does discover who killed Flex and why, and sets out to capture him, accompanied by one of Bormann’s aides, Wilhelm Zander.  Bernie believes that if he can arrest the man, justice will be done, Bormann will release the innocent fall guy currently in the clink, and he’ll be able to get two inept cops off the hook (they’re facing a firing squad for no good reason).  But misplaced optimism is a Bernie Gunther hallmark… so when he captures the killer, Zander shoots him, then turns the gun on Bernie.  Our hero escapes, but mostly due to dumb luck.  And while things turn out okay for him, when he returns to Bavaria, he learns that all three of the men he’d hoped to save had been killed that morning.  He also meets a dead end in his quest to bring down Bormann.

Flash forward to 1956 – his 1939 friend and colleague, Frederich Korsch is now his enemy, but Bernie has a new name and a new chance at freedom in Munich.

I know.  It’s a lot of plot.  And I left a ton out.

There’s a lot to like about this book.  With some minimal wikipedia-ing, I am convinced that Kerr did a great job on the historical accuracy aspect of it.  I have no problem believing that he also did an excellent job in his portrayal of historical figures.  One character – female architect Gerdy Troost, who was a staunch Nazi and strong Hitler admirer – decides to help Bernie root out the corruption, and she is a sympathetic figure in Kerr’s hands.  Characters are fleshed out and credible.  The plot is twisty and the violence is compelling and realistic.  Also, Kerr has a wonderful way with words.  I had to stifle myself from reading selections out loud to my husband; after the third such passage, Mark was out of patience.

The best thing about Prussian Blue is Bernie Gunther himself.  He’s sharp and funny, is more likely to get beaten to a pulp than he is to do the beating, and is liable to succeed mostly through sheer persistence, but also gets a normal helping of dumb luck along the way.  His morality is like Teflon; despite all the evil he sees, it endures.  As he thought back to that April in 1939 and all that had occurred, he reflected, “Most of all I remembered being almost twenty years younger and possessed of a sense of decency and honor I now found almost quaint.  For a while back here, I think I sincerely believe I was the only honest man I knew.”  He may be rueful, but at the core, he’s unchanged.

So how does the book stack up with the other nominees?  For character, complications, plot and atmosphere, I’ve got to give it up for Philip Kerr’s Prussian Blue.  It goes to the top of the ranking.

mwa_logoLiterary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. Prussian Blue by Philip Kerr
  2. Bluebird Bluebird by Attica Locke
  3. The Dime by Kathleen Kent
  4. A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee

Bluebird, Bluebird up for Best Novel

bluebidThe third book up for the Mystery Writers of America Edgar award for Best Novel is Attica Locke’s Bluebird Bluebird.  As with the two nominees I’ve reviewed so far, Bluebird is the first book in a planned series, this time featuring a black Texas Ranger named Darren Mathews.  Race relations in  Texas infuses Bluebird, which is unflinching in its portrayal of race-based hate crimes as well as the more complicated interpersonal relationships.  Mathews’ desire to ensure a fair shake for African-Americans, both those accused and those who are victims, is what made him drop out of law school and become a Ranger… even though he may pay a big price, as his wife Lisa is looking for a stable and upwardly mobile life.  She’s also not thrilled with Mathews’ drinking, and it looks like she’s right – he’s got a problem.

Mathews comes to the small town of Lark to investigate the death of Michael Wright, a black lawyer from Chicago, and also that of a young mother and blonde beauty, Missy Dale.  The locals – including local law enforcement, the local branch of the Aryan Brotherhood, and what passes for the local bourgeoisie – may not be in cahoots, but they all share a desire to send Ranger Mathews back to where he came from.  But Mathews is patient and persistent while looking out for the powerless.  Meanwhile, back home, a grand jury is deciding whether to charge old friend Rutherford “Mack” McMillan in the shooting death of a white man who had been stalking his Mack’s granddaughter.  Darren hopes his testimony cast enough doubt to keep the old man free.

Mathews has a strong suspicion that Missy’s husband, Keith Dale, killed Wright in a fit of rage when he saw his wife walking down the dark road with him, then killed his wife to silence her as a witness.  But as Mathews learns why the Chicago man had come to Lark, Texas, he begins to cast a new light on the long-term relationships of the locals, and ends up solving a long-ago crime as well as the present-day murders.

Locke is the author of three previously well-received novels, including Edgar nominee Black Water Rising (which I reviewed here back in 2010!) and was a writer and producer on the Fox drama Empire.  So it’s not surprising that Bluebird is well-plotted, but I didn’t see either of the two twists at the end coming.  Well-done!  In addition, I’m a sucker for complicated characters, and some of the people who inhabit Locke’s Texas are as real as they come.  

Comparing Bluebird Bluebird to The Dime and A Rising Man, Locke does a superior job of tapping into the zeitgeist of time and place than the other authors.  Her characters are also more compelling and convincing, although I’d like to see more exploration of wife Lisa.  As a result, Bluebird is taking the top spot in the Literary Lunchbox ranking.

mwa_logoLiterary Lunchbox Rankings: Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award, Best Novel

  1. Bluebird Bluebird by Attica Locke
  2. The Dime by Kathleen Kent
  3. A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee