I love art. I really do. But listening to wealthy Angelenos discuss the "juxtaposition of violence and celebrity" while I'm trying to scrape dried oatmeal off a high chair is a special kind of cognitive dissonance. I spent twenty minutes this morning explaining to Lucas that drawing on the dog with washable markers isn't "avant-garde," only to plug this audiobook in and listen to adults in Los Angeles do basically the same thing, just with more expensive wine and actual consequences.
Murder, But Make It Artsy
The premise here is undeniably hooky, even for a tired mom who usually sticks to rom-coms. Kim Lord is this provocative artist who paints herself as famous murder victims—the Black Dahlia, Nicole Brown Simpson. It's creepy, it's meta, and it's basically begging for trouble. Naturally, she goes missing on the night of her own gala at the Rocque Museum.
I listened to the first few chapters during my sacred 25-minute post-drop-off car sit, and I was in. The setup is fantastic. It tackles how we fetishize violence against women, which is a heavy topic for 9 AM on a Tuesday, but it felt important. Fair warning though: this isn't a Gone Girl sprint. It's a slow, deliberate walk through a very pretentious gallery. There were moments in the middle—mostly long internal monologues about the nature of media—where I found myself checking the playback speed. I already listen at 1.25x (survival mode, remember?), but I was tempted to bump it to 1.5x just to get through the museum politics.
Tavia Gilbert is the Real MVP
If the story meanders, Tavia Gilbert is the shepherd dog nipping at its heels to keep it moving. Her narration is the main reason I finished this one. The research notes aren't kidding about her character differentiation—she gives the art world snobs these distinct, slightly clipped, self-important voices that made me roll my eyes in the best way.
You know how some narrators make every male character sound like a chain-smoking pirate? Gilbert doesn't do that. She handles the male voices, like the suspect ex-boyfriend Greg, with enough nuance that they feel like real people, not caricatures. She brought that same grounded quality to This Side of the Grave, where the cast is even larger and she somehow keeps every voice distinct. She also nailed the anxiety of Maggie, the editor-turned-sleuth. When Maggie starts spiraling about the investigation, Gilbert's pacing tightens up, which actually made my heart rate spike while I was folding towels. That's talent.
I noticed the same control in Once Burned — completely different genre, but Gilbert's ability to carry emotional tension scene to scene is unmistakable.Who's This For (And Who Should Skip)
If you want a mystery that makes you feel intellectual while you're driving a minivan, this is it. Fans of literary thrillers who don't mind a slower burn will appreciate the art world critique. But if you're looking for a fast-paced adrenaline rush to keep you awake during late-night feedings, this might put you to sleep faster than the baby. Skip it if you need constant plot momentum.
The "Nap Time" Verdict
This book survived the "47 pauses" test, mostly because the plot isn't so complex that you lose the thread if a toddler screams for juice. But it is heavy. It's dark. And honestly, the ending felt a little... quiet? I didn't get that big, gasping reveal I usually crave from a thriller.
It's a smart book. Maybe a little too smart for its own good sometimes.
