Land of the Haunted Dolls, by Susan Lien Whigham, NOV 2021 LTER
ConversazioniReviews of Early Reviewers Books
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1LyndaInOregon
Disclaimer: An electronic copy of this book was provided in exchange for review by publishers Tierra Simbolica, via Library Thing.
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This is a tough one. Whigham has created a paranormal mystery (listed as the first of a trilogy) so packed with plot threads and complex characters carrying backstories, some of which literally cover centuries, that the reader is going to be hard put to keep up with them.
Then, after building to what should have been a world-shaking climax, she chooses to essentially pull the plug on the whole thing, wrapping it up in an Epilogue that has at least two more novels’ worth of action, glazing over good-vs-evil conflicts and life-altering decisions in a few dozen words and taking time to nail down loose plot noodles which should never have been introduced in the first place.
The bare bones of the plot sound promising: FBI agent Rochelle Roy has been involved in the takedown of a major drug and sex-trafficking ring. The mastermind is under arrest, and four young women who had been trafficked by him into the sex trade express a willingness to testify against him. The plan goes sour when all the women suddenly go into catatonic states and begin demonstrating symptoms that suggest demonic possession. At this point, Roy is pressured to contact her cousin, Titi Beaumond, to use her skills as a healer and practitioner of the African religion commonly known as voodoo.
This is where things start getting complicated. Roy and Beaumond have a history. They are cousins, and Roy is currently involved romantically with Beaumond’s ex-husband, who is himself saddled with a Queen Bitch Mother from Hell who is not about to let a little thing like terminal lung cancer interfere with her domination of her son’s life. Roy has a major alcohol problem and a personal history with a big secret. Beaumond has a history of childhood sexual abuse and is just beginning a relationship with a man who is a recovering alcoholic. He in turn has a son and ex-wife who are complicating things. The psychiatrist assigned to the case of the rescued prostitutes is married to a trans-woman and is fighting her own PTSD battles while simultaneously trying to keep her wife off crack. The ex-prostitutes are apparently being possessed by the spirits of four young women hung as witches in 17th-century Salem, and each of them has two or three past lives going on. The big demon of the tale goes by the name of Bram, and he is thoroughly nasty. He’s also apparently inhabiting the soul of the imprisoned drug dealer/pimp when he’s not busy forcing various hallucinations on the other dozen or so main characters.
And that’s just a very cursory overview. Whigham is trying to keep too many plates spinning in the air, and the effort to keep up with them is utterly exhausting for both reader and, apparently, author. A more experienced writer might be able to cut this hydra-headed monster into manageable chunks, produce a single long novel with a payoff battle between the forces of Good and Evil, and still leave a door cracked open for further adventures of either Roy and Beaumond or of the FBI’s “Investigative Committee for Unexplained Phenomena”, which she drops into the Epilogue with no prior explanation.
She gets a wobbly “C” for effort on this, along with a strong recommendation to go back to the drawing board, weed out the extraneous material, and fully develop the payoff the reader has been hoping for.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This is a tough one. Whigham has created a paranormal mystery (listed as the first of a trilogy) so packed with plot threads and complex characters carrying backstories, some of which literally cover centuries, that the reader is going to be hard put to keep up with them.
Then, after building to what should have been a world-shaking climax, she chooses to essentially pull the plug on the whole thing, wrapping it up in an Epilogue that has at least two more novels’ worth of action, glazing over good-vs-evil conflicts and life-altering decisions in a few dozen words and taking time to nail down loose plot noodles which should never have been introduced in the first place.
The bare bones of the plot sound promising: FBI agent Rochelle Roy has been involved in the takedown of a major drug and sex-trafficking ring. The mastermind is under arrest, and four young women who had been trafficked by him into the sex trade express a willingness to testify against him. The plan goes sour when all the women suddenly go into catatonic states and begin demonstrating symptoms that suggest demonic possession. At this point, Roy is pressured to contact her cousin, Titi Beaumond, to use her skills as a healer and practitioner of the African religion commonly known as voodoo.
This is where things start getting complicated. Roy and Beaumond have a history. They are cousins, and Roy is currently involved romantically with Beaumond’s ex-husband, who is himself saddled with a Queen Bitch Mother from Hell who is not about to let a little thing like terminal lung cancer interfere with her domination of her son’s life. Roy has a major alcohol problem and a personal history with a big secret. Beaumond has a history of childhood sexual abuse and is just beginning a relationship with a man who is a recovering alcoholic. He in turn has a son and ex-wife who are complicating things. The psychiatrist assigned to the case of the rescued prostitutes is married to a trans-woman and is fighting her own PTSD battles while simultaneously trying to keep her wife off crack. The ex-prostitutes are apparently being possessed by the spirits of four young women hung as witches in 17th-century Salem, and each of them has two or three past lives going on. The big demon of the tale goes by the name of Bram, and he is thoroughly nasty. He’s also apparently inhabiting the soul of the imprisoned drug dealer/pimp when he’s not busy forcing various hallucinations on the other dozen or so main characters.
And that’s just a very cursory overview. Whigham is trying to keep too many plates spinning in the air, and the effort to keep up with them is utterly exhausting for both reader and, apparently, author. A more experienced writer might be able to cut this hydra-headed monster into manageable chunks, produce a single long novel with a payoff battle between the forces of Good and Evil, and still leave a door cracked open for further adventures of either Roy and Beaumond or of the FBI’s “Investigative Committee for Unexplained Phenomena”, which she drops into the Epilogue with no prior explanation.
She gets a wobbly “C” for effort on this, along with a strong recommendation to go back to the drawing board, weed out the extraneous material, and fully develop the payoff the reader has been hoping for.
