In the opening scene of Furious Violet, true crime writer Violet “West” Shelley wakes up in a pool of blood in a hotel in Salt Lake City, where she has been conducting final interviews for her book about a cold case murderer known as the Crying Killer. Sarai Walker certainly knows how to draw readers in, keep those pages turning and upend genres, as she did with her much-lauded previous novels, Dietland and The Cherry Robbers.
Furious Violet is beautifully written, packed with humor and superbly plotted—the sort of spine-tingler you might not want to read late at night, especially if alone. In fact, certain Stephen King thrillers may come to mind, especially once West returns to her mountain hometown in Colorado. While West is hoping to figure out who that notorious killer might be, this gun-toting investigator realizes she is being stalked: She’s begun receiving personal, increasingly threatening messages from someone who claims to be her child. Except West has never had a baby.
Sarai Walker flips the true crime script.
What she does have is a very famous mother, renowned poet Juliet Bellwood, who died by suicide shortly after West was born. Juliet’s rabid admirers—whom Violet and her beloved uncle call “Furies”—are planning a college symposium to commemorate the 50th anniversary of her death. In one fell swoop, Walker manages to evoke both Sylvia Plath and the late crime writer Michelle McNamara (I’ll Be Gone in the Dark). This brilliant mashup adds layers of relevance as West finds herself in her stalker’s crosshairs. Early on, West notes, “I was drawn to the spectacle of catastrophe,” but she eventually concludes, “ ‘True crime’ is a term of remove, a term of luxury for the observer.” Noting how certain victims become famous, she adds, “We know these victims’ names like we know the names of movie stars and football players.”
West is a savvy, memorable and driven narrator, a 49-year-old sleuth who guzzles Mountain Dew, Advil, Tylenol and fast-food breakfast sandwiches to fuel her fire. Walker examines motherhood and aging from many different angles, making this substantive but entertaining novel an excellent choice for book clubs. West notes that a fan of her books once called her a “Gen X Miss Marple,” and she “wasn’t at all insulted by the comparison to a frumpy, crime-solving old maid.” Furious Violet overflows with unexpected twists, turns and delights, and readers may well clamor to hear more from this newfangled gumshoe.
