Book Review: THE MENOPAUSE MURDERS

Title: The Menopause Murders
Author: Mary Maloney and Ed Markel
Publisher: Ubiquitous Press
Pages: 534
My GoodReads Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
 

At 47, fulltime housewife and part-time painter Debbi Dickerson is suffering the worst of menopause. She’s a case study for menopause, suffering all the symptoms relentlessly. Her teenage children, Brad and Chelsea, don’t care about her, and her cop husband Jerry is having an affair, though she doesn’t know that yet.

It seems that there is only one relief from her symptoms and the misery they inflict, and that is giving vent to rage. Very soon, Debbi begins to hear Ted-talks, imaginary talks by Ted Bundy that egg her on. But when bodies begin to drop dead and Jerry is given the case, what’s an upcoming serial killer to do?

The book is set during the presidency of one of the most sexist presidents the US has ever had. This dark comedy has been written in a light-hearted, fantastical vein, that stops short of going into the implications of snuffing life out.

Beneath the breezy tone, there are issues of significance being raised. How there is much ado about sex and not enough emotional connection in marriages.

This was a thriller with a higher goal, to blow the dust off the misconceptions surrounding menopause, albeit in a darkly comic way. The book throws light on how so many of modern pharma’s solution to the travails of menopause are just experimental. It also puts the spotlight on real issues such as opioid addiction, ageing and the rejection and discrimination that menopausal women face.

The authors bring their own female and male gender-centric perspectives to the writing. This is an asset, especially given the exaggerated nature of Debbi’s situation. In fact, between the two of them, Jerry and Debbi represent the pro- and anti-Trump support groups.

The chapter names were fun and funky, often referencing popular songs. The narrative referenced lines and ideas from popular books and movies such as Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, Dylan Thomas’ poem, Rage, Rage, Against the Dying of the Night, Gone With The Wind, Silence of the Lambs, Aretha Franklin’s songs etc. Lorena Bobbit who added the word, Bobbitisation, to the dictionary, also finds a place here.

The book was very long, but it didn’t feel tedious, thanks to the writing.

The time slipping away like a boat drifting downstream, unnoticed from the docks.

Chocolate and wine were temporary corks.

New wrinkles on her face and neck erupted every day, as if tectonic plates under her epidermis were shifting and pushing up land masses and creating deep trenches in the landscape of her body.

The imagery was graphic. When she kissed him good-bye, he reacted as if she had dog poop on her lips instead of lipstick.

It’s easy to sympathise with Debbi, even though she’s far from perfect. For one, Jerry is no paragon of excellence himself. He is an unabashed racist, faithless in his marriage and secretly a criminal. Egged on by her menopause woes, we find ourselves sympathising with her plight, and watching to see how she reacts to situations around her.

From being an accidental killer, Debbi morphs into a deliberate killer in front of our eyes, and the transformation is believable. Of course, the menopause symptoms described here are highly exaggerated. I doubt any woman suffers every symptom attributed to menopause, certainly not to the heightened extent that poor Debbi suffers.

The authors do not glorify Debbi, letting a minor character do that instead. But Debbi is punished for the impunity with which she kills with the sight of best friend, Ellen, slowly declining in health as cancer ravages her.

There was humour, as in Debbi’s use of the coffee enema. Of course, the humour in this case was slapstick but it worked well.

The book needed some proofreading. In one place, the author refers to a whole ‘gambit’ of symptoms; it should have been gamut.

I never thought I’d root for a killer but that’s just what these two co-authors made me do. I would definitely read other books they write.

(I read this book on NetGalley. Thank you to the author, the publisher and NetGalley.) 

Book Review: FOREVER 51

Title: Forever 51
Author: Pamela Skjolsvik
Publisher: Fawkes Press
Pages: 332
My GoodReads Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Veronica Bouchard is a vampire who breaks her 10-year-long commitment to sobriety by drinking human blood soon after killing a 19-year-old employee at a tanning centre who has the temerity to mock her age. For there is no fury like that of a menopausal vampire. 

Poor Veronica is forever 51 years old. Doomed to suffer an eternity of hot flashes and crazy hormones, she is desperate for any solution out of this mess. Being a vampire allows her to regenerate and erase bullet wounds, but at 51, it does nothing for her vanity.

A fervent member of Alcoholics Anonymous, which helps her cope with her hunger for blood, Veronica has, for the most part, restricted herself to an ethical meal. This ethical way is to drink from somebody at a terminal disease, already on the verge of death. The hospice at which she works, on the night shift, is the perfect hunting ground.

Then one day out of the blue, Veronica receives an FB friend request from her 15-year-old daughter, Ingrid, who turned her over a hundred years ago and then ran off with her hot, much older vampire lover, Desmond.

On the way to see her, Veronica acquires a friend, 21-year-old Jenny Pearson who suffers from hemochromatosis and severe drug dependency issues.

On responding to Ingrid’s friend request, Veronica becomes aware that there is a way to not only be able to see your reflection in the mirror but also to get your soul back. It involves offering a heartfelt apology to all those she has turned.

Determined to re-gain her soul and become mortal again, Veronica sets out on a road trip across the country to connect with and apologise to the five vampires she has turned.

 

The book is written in the past tense in the omniscient viewpoint. The tone is both mocking and indulgent towards vampires, and overthrows a few myths about vampires while reinforcing others. At one point, the author has Veronica push up her sleeves as if she were going to start a fight, or maybe wash the dishes.

Starting in the present in Texas, the book sees Veronica take us along across Massachusetts, Detroit, New Orleans, Nebraska and North Dakota as she sets out to meet and apologise to all those who turned vampires because of her, including her granddaughter, Millicent.

 

I don’t generally fancy vampire stories. I read Count Dracula back in the day, but I was put off by the Twilight series, and the film didn’t help at all. I picked this one up because the premise was so uproariously funny and offbeat.

The cover, though simple, hinted at the snarky story within, with its image of those protruding canines and that single drop of blood. Immortality's a bitch, and you'd better believe it.

Unlike Twilight, Forever 51 reminds us that being a vampire is nothing but endless days of monotonous nothing. For all the romance that the Twilight series conjured up around vampires, this book does away with the glamour of immortality and reminds us about the risks, hiding from reflective surfaces, never being able to socialise, and being incredibly lonely. Forever 51 romances the idea of mortality and living, the joys of eating ice cream and smelling, even if it means aging, since that is a part of life.

 

The word, vampire, isn’t mentioned until Chapter 3, but we have no doubt that V for Veronica and Vampire is sassy and big on attitude. She loses her cool when the tanning centre girl, flush with beauty at age 19, suggests she try Botox. Nobody likes to be reminded of their age, least of all a vampire. She keeps her temper under control thanks to AA’s sobriety programme whose catchphrase is HALT – Are you Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired?

Veronica’s vampirical nature allows her to comment on the times we live in. She moans that she is still alive in a world in which food which used to sustain life is now its own addiction. She is disturbed by modern slang, like the word, solid, standing in for the word, favour. But she is grateful for the invention of stretchy pants.

You can’t help liking Veronica. She can’t stand men who hurt women, physically or emotionally.

Her daughter, Ingrid, is excited to be mortal again, to be able to eat cheeseburgers and pee. Do you wipe back to front or front to back?

 

The violence is implied but the sex references are casual and gratuitous. There is a lot of bad language and loads of pop culture references, some of which I got and many I didn’t. The analogies were entertaining, just like Jenny who is described as having the size and dexterity of a rabid squirrel.

 

Just two mistakes. At the end of Chapter 5, we see a reference to Ingrid’s laptop. It should be Annika’s laptop, since we haven’t met Ingrid at this point. In another place, Gandhi was misspelled as Ghandi. I hope the author rectifies these minor errors.

 

Finally, this modern-day picaresque novel with Veronica behind the wheel, and Jenny, and us, in tow, is one great ride and read. 

(I read this book through NetGalley. Thank you, NetGalley, the author and the publisher.)