The Keeper of the Keys Can Keep this Novel, Too
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Author: Perri O'Shaughnessy
Title: Keeper of the Keys Genre: mystery It's been said that a moose is a horse designed by a committee, a clear reference to the gangly beast's rather bizarre morphology. It's also a compelling metaphor for the general futility of "creation by committee," by which an entire room of creative geniuses can be reduced to the lowest common denominator. I was most recently reminded of this futility when I read Perri O'Shaugnessy's Keeper of the Keys. Some of you already know that "Perri" O'Shaughnessy is a committee of two sisters, who've already collaborated on the eleven courtroom dramas (each with a side of romance) in the Nina Reilly series. This latest, however, is a standalone effort set in southern California instead of near Reilly's Lake Tahoe digs - and that's not the only difference. All of a sudden, Ray Jackson's life didn't seem to be going well... His relationship with Leigh, his wife of six years, seemed on the verge of crumbling, and he wasn't connecting with the clients at his high-end architectural firm, either. About all he had going for him was the little scale models he spent every night building in his basement workshop - models of all the houses he and his mother had lived in when he was a kid; houses for which he still kept a copy of every key. Leigh, though, had apparently had enough. So one Friday night she packed her overnight bag and stalked out of the house. For some odd reason, Ray didn't find it necessary to go looking for his wife. Instead, he decided to go back to all the houses where he'd lived as a child - but not until after punching out his business partner for all those nooners with Leigh in a sleazy motel. Simultaneously with Leigh's disappearance, her one-time best friend Kat Tinsley decided to go a-lookin' for her. Kat even showed up at her door, in the process meeting Ray for the first time. Leigh wasn't at her parents, she hadn't showed at her shop (where she made custom furniture), and she hadn't talked to anyone since she'd left. Ray, though, seemed much more concerned about figuring out why he and his mother had moved so often and so suddenly as a child. Small wonder Leigh left him, eh? The two seekers of Leigh opted to join forces, perhaps with a bit of impetus from the local cops. In the process of their leisurely and lackadaisical search, Ray made an enormous discovery and Kat learned a lot about herself, though not why she's rather a slut. Keeper of the Keys is a classic example of writing by committee. I can just picture it: a fly on the wall at the sisters' first story meeting probably heard something a little like this: P: "I want to write a psychological thriller about childhood memories and stalkers." M: "Well, I want to write a sweet little book about how everyone comes together years after a loved one's suicide." P: "Hmmm... I only have enough for a novella, anyway." M: "Well, that's all I have, too. Hmmmm..." Together: "I know! Let's combine the two into a single novel!" And combine the two plots they did: two disparate plots kludged together around a single shared character - a character who's present only in the first and last chapters! When I envision this form of creative process, though, a lot of oddities become perfectly clear: the book's written in alternating chapters, one set about Ray's obsession with his former houses, and the other about Kat's... well, about Kat's ticking biological clock, basically. Sister one - I'm guessing Pamela, the lawyer, here - writes about Ray's rather strange disinterest in his wife's disappearance. The guy gives more attention to a client than he does to looking for his wife (again, I can see why she'd leave). The other sister - that would be Mary, the graphic designer - is much more interested in Kat's faltering love life and her pregnant sister. The Coincidence Fairy's visit - Kat calling Leigh out of the blue after six years on the very weekend she disappears - is as forced as an arranged marriage. Ultimately the combination yields a pretty strange mishmash of a novel, with plot twists of a decidedly chiropractic nature arriving out of thin air. Add to that the determined male-bashing of the husband (hey - at least he didn't cheat on his spouse) who is, of course (because of having a tab instead of a slot) 100% to blame for the faltering marriage. The results are a novel that's the literary equivalent of Wonder Bread. My recommendation: Give Keeper of the Keys a pass. Fans of Nina Reilly will hate it 'cause Nina's not in it, fans of mysteries will find it lacking, and fans of the male of the species will border on insulted. all content copyright © 2014 by scmrak
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