The Ex by Alafair Burke: A review

This book was my introduction to Alafair Burke, another writer that I had long intended to read but hadn't gotten around to. It was an impressive introduction. I think Burke must have learned a thing or two about plotting and character development from her father, James Lee Burke. But her voice is absolutely original and fresh; consequently, this was an enjoyable summer read.

This psychological thriller presents Olivia Randall as the protagonist. Olivia is a criminal defense attorney of some renown in New York City. Twenty years before, as a law student, she was engaged to Jack Harris, but she cheated on him repeatedly and eventually when he could no longer deny it, they had a big bust-up and Jack rushed away from their argument and called his brother Owen to commiserate and get drunk with him. When his brother, a police officer, was driving home later he had an automobile accident in which he was killed. The shock of everything drove Jack into a psychotic break and he ended up in a mental hospital for months. Olivia was consumed with a guilt of which, in twenty years, she has never been able to rid herself.

Olivia continued having serial affairs as she rose in the ranks of the community of lawyers and Jack went on to become a successful author and to marry and have a daughter named Buckley, now fifteen. Three years ago Jack's and Buckley's world came crashing down when Jack's wife and Buckley's mother was murdered by a teenage boy in a mass killing of thirteen people. The murderer then committed suicide.

Jack blamed the boy's father who had refused to recognize the signs of mental illness and to get help for the boy. And now that man, too, has been killed in a mass shooting and Jack, who had a civil suit against the man, was in the area at the time. He is arrested on suspicion of the killing. Buckley calls Olivia to help her father. At last, Olivia has a chance to possibly save Jack and to finally expunge her load of guilt over the way that she treated him all those years ago.

The Jack that Olivia knew was a mild-mannered man and she is thoroughly convinced that he could never have committed murder. She throws herself into the battle to defend him against the charges. But if he didn't kill those people, why do all the clues lead so neatly to him? Is this a frame? If so, it seems to be a very tightly fitting one. And who would want to frame him?

I thought the plot was well-paced; it kept things moving and kept the reader interested. All of the main characters have flaws and are not necessarily exactly as they seem on the surface. I felt that Olivia's guilt about Jack was a bit overplayed. I mean it was twenty years ago and obviously, Jack was able to move on, but she still seems to be wallowing in it in spite of her successful career and comfortable life.

I actually figured out "whodunit" pretty early on, using Sherlock Holmes' dictum that when you eliminate the impossible whatever is left, however improbable it may be, is the truth. It was fun to follow along with the author as she developed the story and brought it to a conclusion. It made for a fast read.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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