by Stella Sands ★☆☆☆☆
I was mentioning to Stephanie the other day that every time I rate a new book, I have to go through the running list for the year and renumber all of them, which means I get to encounter (and shudder at) the memory of Womb City, one of my more convoluted reads of 2024. Aside from the short story collection disaster that was Fifty Beasts To Break Your Heart: And Other Stories, Womb City has firmly held the distinction of the worst novel I read this year. Until now.
Welcome to Wordhunter. The novel's premise is that Maggie Moore, a twenty-one-year-old college student with a unique talent for forensic linguistics, begins helping local police solve crimes through her ability to find patterns in the notes criminals leave behind. Okay, that sounds compelling...There's just one problem: her "genius" deductions are things that those of us without a forensic linguistics degree could spot immediately, like "he properly used a semicolon". The local police are wowed; this reader was not.
Setting aside the ho-hum payoff on the premise, the overarching issue with this novel is its dialogue. It's downright horrible, and feels more unnatural than anything I've read in a very long time. I searched for a passage that fully captures its absurdity, and the best example is probably the press conference at the novel's conclusion. While I'd implore you to not waste your time with this one, I won't spoil the ending for anyone who might.
Nah, nevermind. If for some reason you don't want to have the end of Wordhunter revealed, stop reading now.
For everyone else, check out this excerpt to get a sense of what the entire book feels like. A reminder, this is a press conference. With the media.
"I'll go over the details with you now because Detective Jackson, unfortunately, cannot speak for himself at this time."
Addison reported how Jackson had found the girls, how Maggie had comforted them and got them to the truck by playing a game of Backwards, Forwards.
"Before Jackson could start the pickup," Addison said, "according to Maggie's precise statement of events, several shots had been fired and the truck was slowly sinking. Jackson got out, gun drawn, and many more shots were fired. At that point in time, Maggie didn't know exactly what was happening. She was covering the girls in the back of the truck. Then, everything went quiet. Maggie said she wondered if Jackson was dead. Or the chief. Or both. Or she thought maybe the chief would be coming for her and the girls."
Addison paused to drink some water.
"And then?" Pickens asked. "What happened?"
"Then, Breakwater's guys showed."
Stopping to look around the room, Addison said, "A huge shout-out to you guys. Job well done. As it happened, both men were on the ground, bleeding profusely. They were immediately taken to the hospital."
"How's Jackson? The girls?" asked Pickens. "And the chief?"
"I'll start with the girls. They were checked out and treated and, after a long discussion, it was decided that it was best for them to go to the mayor's house with two social workers specially assigned."
"Thank Jesus," Evans said, crossing himself.
"Sad to have to report, however, Jackson's in a coma," Addison said.
"Will he, you know?" asked Evans.
"The doctors are hopeful. He was shot three times. Touch and go. I'll conclude by saying the chief has been arrested and is being treated for his wounds. Jackson managed some perfect shots, placed precisely where they would take the chief down, but not out. Okay, I'd like to thank you for your attention. We've all got to get back to work."
"Back here at three," Gutierrez said. "We have tons to do." Then he looked at Maggie. "Thank you again," he said. "We all owe you so much."
The entire room stood up and clapped.
The most surprising thing is that I didn't rank this lower than Fifty Beasts, but after reading the above passage again, I may have to. Avoid this one completely!
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