I am on record as disliking the trend of calling every book about a woman that features moral ambiguity or a single incident of unreliable narration – or worse like one single lie – “the next Gone Girl.” Read another book.
All that said, of all the next Gone Girls this comes closest, because it’s a carbon copy in so many ways, down to the pacing. There’s the added gimmick of her mommy blog – very funny and pitch perfect (no pun intended given the casting of the movie) – but things like the twist coming when it did and the tone of Emily’s eventual narration are practically lifted from Gillian Flynn. (It’s not an outright copy, because it also pulls from gossipier novels like Big Little Lies, and because the writing and plot were all much more cheesy and predictable.)
It was a fun read, but only worth the 3 hours it took to read in a Sunday bookstore trip. It’s the perfect beach or airplane read: light, pulpy, asking very little of its readers (including, as I said, any ability to guess twists, because this one could be seen from a mile off).
I rarely read a book in the middle of reading another book, but this one was spontaneous and smack in the middle of The Lives of Others, and it was refreshing – not in that it provided anything new, but that it stuck so close to a newly established trope that it required absolutely no brainpower from me.