Amidst the enthusiasm for true crime podcasts and investigative thrillers, this new novel by Natalie Barelli provides an intriguing counterpoint. Though titled Missing Molly, the titular girl of this tale and the victim of a terrible crime is anything but missing. In a delightful twist on the genre, she’s the protagonist of our story – and is trying her hardest not to be found.
The concept behind Missing Molly is intriguing – I picked up this book solely on its strength. What if you had witnessed something horrible, and could never tell anyone about it lest history repeat itself? What if your closest friends started investigating something awful, without even knowing you were at its epicenter? What if you knew the answer to the questions they were asking, and had to guide them towards what you already know without revealing how you know it? I was expecting a thrilling, chilling tale, full of tragic yet necessary misunderstandings, perhaps with a critique of the tactless theatrics that amateur true crime podcasts can sink to. What I got, instead, was Missing Molly. A work which tries to do all these things, yet frequently falls just short of its mark.
The book’s beginning was especially egregious – while it gets to the action fast, the writing is stiff and stale in some parts, strangely repetitive and on-the-nose in others. The protagonist, despite the tragic circumstances around her disappearance and subsequent years, is surprisingly bad at hiding her feelings. As the novel proceeds and problems arise, some are fixed far too quickly to feel impactful or engaging, and a similar problem plagues some of the twists – they’re set up, and revealed a handful of pages later, sapping them of their force. The epilogue wraps everything up with a few dry statements, tidy yet lacking character.
What makes all these flaws so tragic is that the premise really is a fascinating one. The book has plenty more of interest to add to it as well – a surprisingly raw and honest discussion of mental health and the trauma one would have after a lifetime of hiding, moments of genuine tension and stomach-churning unease, and a whole lot of grit. They’re not quite enough to outweigh the book’s flaws, but they are enough to keep you interested. To keep you reading, unable to look away. To make you wish that this book had been edited just a little more tightly.
Given how much I griped about some fairly minor annoyances I had with Missing Molly, I’m not sure I can really recommend it here. But I also can’t deny that I really was engrossed, or that the novel’s atmosphere was often submerged in a deep, dark unease that was genuinely a perverse pleasure to read.
TWO AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Missing Molly by Natalie Barelli is out now from Poisoned Pen Press. Find a copy at your local bookstore HERE.
