I read so many thrillers that it’s rare for one to blow me away. Roz Nay’s Our Little Secret did. And it wasn’t so much a gripping, unputdownable page turner that sent my blood racing, but rather a slow burn build up of psychological wrong-ness. What begins as a rather innocuous break up between high school sweethearts turns into a tale of psychological manipulation and potential murder. Nay’s genius is in the subtlety of her writing and character development, such that it’s hard to pinpoint the part where things go wrong, and we have a niggling suspicion that something isn’t quite right without being able to identify what that is.

In the Author Letter that accompanied my advance reading copy, Nay writes:

Don’t we all have a time in our lives that we see as golden — that version of ourselves when we were at our best, our happiest, and our most alive? I wanted to write a novel that, whilst a page-turner, had a kind of slow yearning at its heart to which most readers could relate.

There’s something very powerful about an unwritten future; but what if the story you’d write for your life isn’t the one you end up in?

This encapsulates my experience of the novel exactly. The story takes place in a police interrogation room. The narrator Angela has been taken in for questioning about the disappearance of Saskia, the wife of Angela’s high school sweetheart HP.  The story, Angela tells Detective Novak, begins not with Saskia’s disappearance, but years before, when Angela and HP first meet. Along with Detective Novak, we learn about how their friendship developed into romance, and how Angela’s choices along the way led to HP finding someone else to love.

I love how nothing dramatic happens, and how everything seems completely normal except we know that something must have gone wrong somewhere. And I love having Detective Novak as a foil to Angela’s narration — his responses give us clues to the larger story beyond Angela’s perspective.

With many thrillers, I often say it’s the ending that absolutely seals the deal for me. For Our Little Secret, while the ending is certainly strong, it’s the entire story that makes it so powerful. I love the pace of the story and its depiction of how yearning for a lost past can become a trap. Our Little Secret is such a fantastic, masterfully crafted character study, and to my mind, Angela has the potential to become one of the most compelling characters ever in the thriller genre.

Q&A with Author Roz Nay

1. How did you get the idea for Our Little Secret?

I used to teach high school and every year I’d watch the Grade 12s graduate, full of promise and excitement, so powerful. It struck me that there would always be a few kids in among them who didn’t reach their potential, and who ended up in lives they might feel weren’t theirs—or shouldn’t be. I also wanted to capture that time in a person’s life where everything is bright and vital and new. What if a character got stuck in that golden era and couldn’t quite move beyond it? I thought it might make an interesting backdrop to a crime.

2. Did you know in advance the truth behind Saskia’s disappearance, or did you have multiple possibilities in mind?  

I always knew what I wanted to happen to Saskia, but I did toy with the idea of different villains. I had great conversations with my editors, Nita Pronovost and Sarah St. Pierre, but it didn’t take us long to realize there was only one real path. I couldn’t swerve away from it!

3. What, if anything, surprised you the most about the way the story or the characters turned out? 

When I first wrote Our Little Secret, Olive was the victim. She was stolen—this was in the novel’s first draft, when it was first signed. As we started the edits, it became clear (because my editors have laser vision) that I’d written a novel with the wrong crime and the wrong victim. That’s pretty good, on a scale of one to very surprising.

4. There seems to me a rather delicate balance in Angela’s reliability as a narrator, which shifts subtly back and forth throughout the story. How challenging was it to create this narrative voice?

I actually found Angela’s voice came naturally, which is perhaps something I should be more worried about. You’re right, though: as fun as she was to write, she was also pretty complicated. I needed to create a shape-shifter who was also disarming and likeable. It was an enjoyable challenge. 

5. How much of a role do you think Angela’s mother had in the way Angela responded to HP and Saskia’s relationship?

Oh, I think she played a huge role. Shelley is fundamental in how Angela sees the world, even though Angela would never admit it. Equally, I don’t think Shelley has a full grasp on the impact she’s having on her daughter. I like the dynamic of neither character really understanding their own relationship.

6. Do you already have your second novel in the works, or an idea for one? What will it be about?

I’ve written two more psych thrillers and I’m working on a fourth. One story I’ve written is about a baby who’s taken from his mom and her plight to get him back; the other is about a British backpacker who’s gone missing in an airport hotel. They’re both currently under consideration.

Blog Tour

Check out the rest of the blog tour reviews for Our Little Secret!

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Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for an advance reading copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Hogarth Shakespeare books have been a series of hits (Gap of Time, Hag-seed) and misses (Vinegar Girl, Shylock is My Name) for me. Tracy Chevalier’s New Boy is a powerful, disquieting re-telling of Othello that falls squarely in the hits column. Chevalier transposes Shakespeare’s tale of racism, jealousy and power into a 1970’s suburban elementary school, and seeing the story play out amongst 11 year old children gives a whole new resonance to its themes.

Osei, a diplomat’s son, begins at his fourth new school in six years. A perpetual new kid, he knows the drill: fit in, don’t stand out. It’s tough when you’re the only Black student in the school and even the teachers look at you with suspicion. Fortunately, he quickly befriends Dee and Casper, the two most popular kids at school. He also earns his other classmates’ respect with his athleticism during a kickball game. His popularity threatens the power structure enforced by the school bully Ian, who schemes to take him down.

Chevalier does a remarkable job in taking a story with such adult themes and making it feel real with 11 year old children. Due to their age, there’s an innocence and lightness to Osei and Dee’s romance, such that when their classmates fall silent at seeing them together and their teacher orders Osei not to touch Dee’s hair, the censure is all the more jarring in its harshness. A strawberry studded pencil case takes the place of the handkerchief in the original, and its childlike nature is very much incongruous with the jealousy and vitriol it will soon inspire.

Seeing Othello as an 11 year old boy is a disturbing reminder of how cruelty does not discriminate based on age. For example, Osei remembers how even Black and Chinese classmates at his previous schools kept their distance, so as not to risk their own precarious position in the school’s social hierarchy. He also makes the conscious decision to turn on his Ghanaian accent at school, because he finds that white people seem more threatened by Black Americans than by Africans, and it’s sad to think of an 11 year old child feeling the need to be so strategic. Later, his response to Dee and the pencil case is particularly tragic, as Dee was the one person at school with whom Osei didn’t feel the need for strategy, the one person with whom Osei could simply feel like he belonged.

I absolutely loved the character of Dee in New Boy. When Ian was plotting his schemes, he immediately discarded the option of tricking Dee because he knew she was too smart to fall for it. Later, when things completely fall apart, it’s Dee who first realizes what Ian has done, and while it was unfortunately too little too late (because Shakespeare), I love the power and agency Chevalier has given this character.

Ian is another interesting character. The extent of his cruelty seems out of proportion to what we’d like to imagine an 11 year old to be capable of, but there’s a childishness to his scheme that makes it all too real. His motivations as well are very childlike — he resents Osei and Casper’s popularity because he himself is feared rather than liked, and unlike Osei and Casper’s natural charisma, Ian has to actively cultivate this fear to maintain his social standing. I have rarely wanted a literary villain to fail as much as Ian, to an extent that I don’t think I’ve felt for a Shakespearean villain, and kudos to Chevalier for making this character so real.

By transplanting Othello into 1970s Washington, Chevalier frames the story within a charged political context around African American power and identity. When Osei’s sister Sisi declares that “Black is beautiful,” she is very much a part of a larger national movement. Even ordinary items like the pencil case, which used to belong to Sisi before she left home to become a political activist, are given added resonance by its setting.

The themes of Othello are of course sadly still relevant today, and what is on surface a straightforward schoolyard tale of bullying is a powerful, disturbing sucker punch of a book. I can’t help but wonder how a Black author would have handled this material, though I like that Chevalier drew upon her own experience of being an outsider as a white girl at a school with mostly Black students. In her words:

Othello is about what it means to be the outsider, and that feeling can start at an early age. We have all at one time or another stood at the edge of a playground, with the bullies circling, wondering if we are going to be accepted. [from the author bio]

New Boy makes Othello immediate and real, and gave me a whole new and visceral experience of the story. I loved it.

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Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The Arrangement by Sarah Dunn

Lucy and Owen decide to spice up their marriage by experimenting with a six month open relationship arrangement. At first, all seems to be going well, with both parties noticing an increased appetite for sex yet secure in the knowledge of each other’s love. But, as has been foreshadowed practically since the beginning, things don’t quite work out as planned, and both must face the consequences of their decision.

The Arrangement is a hard, utterly frank look at the challenges of married life. Lucy and Owen’s desire for a fantasy life is all too relatable, and I like how Dunn shows us the real consequences of having this fantasy in an entertaining, non-moralistic way.

I love how the fun, adventurous girlfriend actually turns out to be much more possessive and demanding than Owen expected, as this feels a bit of welcome karma for women whose husbands cheat on them with someone “less complicated.” I also love how Liz’s no strings attached fling leads to her rediscovering her desirability, when she receives a level of attention and desire that has long been lost amongst the mundanity of everyday life. There are real consequences beyond Lucy and Owen’s relationship as well, as they also have to deal with the impact of their decisions on their autistic son.

The Arrangement is a fun, realistic look at marriage. The ending felt a bit abrupt, but otherwise I really enjoyed it.

Fly Me by Daniel Riley

Set in 1972 Los Angeles, Fly Me is about a young woman, Suzy Whitman, who follows her older sister into a career as a flight attendant for Grand Pacific Airlines. Suzy skateboards and suntans on the beaches of California and falls into a drug-trafficking scheme.

From the blurb, Fly Me seemed like glitzy, glamorous, hedonistic fun, but this just didn’t work for me and I ended up not finishing it. Something about it reminded me of 1980s novels by Harold Robbins or Jackie Collins, but not quite as delicious so it didn’t quite work. The story never quite hooked me, and I never quite came to care for the characters.

This just wasn’t a book for me, but from Goodreads reviews, it did work for other readers. One reviewer compares it to Don DeLillo, Joan Didion and Emma Cline, and a second reviewer echoes the comparison to Emma Cline’s The Girls. 

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Thank you to Hachette Book Group for advance reading copies of these books in exchange for honest reviews.