My relentless hunt for something to read led me to the New York Times list of the best thrillers of this century. This was described as ‘literary’ which seemed a bit strong, though I don’t deny the artistry. It was tightly plotted and clever and the resolution was unexpected. But, if you’re going to read genre, I just don’t know why you would read thrillers. It’s such a sad world. I’d much prefer romance, where you know nothing is going to go really wrong and people will end up happier than they began. This one was particularly bleak, being about the death of a child. I don’t know why this would be relaxing? But many people find it so, so let me not judge.
THE GOD OF THE WOODS by Liz Moore
