31 Reads of Terror: 'The Sister' by Louise Jensen

I prefer to remain silent on this review, but alas, I needed a book for today’s 31 Reads of Terror, which is beginning to feel less like a celebration of suspense and more like a descent into a pit of mediocrity. I can already hear the chorus of well-meaning readers saying, “Don’t give it a bad review; at least the author made an effort.” But really, what a load of sugarcoated nonsense! Being a writer requires a thick skin. Not everyone will like your creation. Expect to face the music from critics, readers, and bloggers alike. Your writing won't be everyone's cup of tea—it's high time to accept that.

The real scourge lies within the mainstream publishing machine, churning out one abysmal book after another, all because it's riding whatever wave is popular on social media or the fleeting fads of a faux BookTok universe. Let’s face it: most of these books—well, they stink. I’m not saying the writing is atrocious, but the tales being told feel like cookie-cutter retreads, mere shadows of the stories that set the trend rolling in the first place. Wandering the shelves of your local bookstore resembles navigating an A.I.-generated fever dream, with countless covers that all look too similar, sporting one-dimensional titles paired with clichéd blurbs. Sure, the authors’ names differ, and the online literary community will insist these are "blockbuster" hits. But in reality? They languish on shelves, gathering dust, waiting to be marked down for clearance or tossed into the abyss, much like the soon-to-be-extinct mass-market paperbacks.

This brings us to today's unfortunate selection: The Sister by Louise Jensen. While this novel is hardly fresh off the press, having made its debut in 2016, the copy I found at a Dollar Tree is from 2018. It falls squarely within the realm of so-called psychological thrillers. 

Now, let’s look at the plot: Grace has been adrift since the death of her best friend, Charlie. Haunted by Charlie's last words, she resorts to opening an old memory box that belonged to her late friend. What unfolds is a chilling revelation: there was so much she never knew about Charlie. As Grace embarks on a quest to find Charlie’s estranged father, Anna—a girl claiming to be Charlie’s sister—unexpectedly steps onto the scene. For Grace, finding Anna is akin to unearthing a new branch of her family tree. Soon, Anna makes herself all too comfortable in Grace and her boyfriend Dan’s home. But a disquieting air lingers. Items mysteriously vanish, Dan begins acting out of character, and Grace can’t shake the feeling that someone is lurking in the shadows. Is it merely a figment of her imagination? Or does her quest for truth put her in perilous danger?

I’m fairly certain I had never crossed paths with Louise Jensen before picking up The Sister, despite her name echoing in the literary ether. It’s a universally acknowledged truth: “A good cover sells a book.” Yet this cover? It's far too bland for my taste, though I can understand its appeal to some.

“Dark, twisty, and irresistible—I simply could not put this down! An absolutely gripping page-turner!” declared Sara Blaedel, the esteemed author. After immersing myself in this work, I can’t help but question whether Blaedel is in cahoots with Jensen or perhaps had one too many glasses of merlot when she penned her endorsement. (For the record, the latter is a jest! Please, steer clear of any slander lawsuits; I’m simply a hapless wanderer fueled by too much coffee and a sprinkle of sarcasm.)

In truth, I couldn't disagree more with Blaedel’s sentiments—there's nothing “twisty,” “gripping,” or “irresistible” about The Sister. It felt more like a tepid young adult novel devoid of a clear trajectory. While the narrative is undeniably tailored for a female audience, I ponder whether my gender plays a role in my disconnection from the characters. But no—I've indulged in plenty of women’s literature, some of which I’ve adored and others I’ve discarded without a second thought. My standards remain the same: I judge books based on writing style, prose, narrative flow, character depth, descriptions, and dialogue. Sadly, The Sister lingers as a mediocre mishmash. While it offers a glimmer of intriguing plot potential, I couldn’t connect with Grace or any of the characters—most felt like mere shadows flitting across the page. Their dialogues were passable yet felt overwhelmingly generic. Though Jensen attempts to weave in twists, I foresaw them from a mile away. The cover proudly proclaims, “A brilliant twist you won’t see coming!”—and I can assure you, I saw it swinging toward me like a lumbering tree falling in slow motion.

In the end, The Sister is nothing if not a bewildering read for me. My expectations for a well-hyped author and book were met with an underwhelming thud. I’m left scratching my head, pondering how this book ever made its way onto the shelves in the first place, while far more deserving stories lie dormant in the depths of obscurity. ╌★✰✰✰✰

〜B.J. Burgess