Literary Fiction Review

Something I rarely do is read other reviews before writing my own. But with this book, I honestly felt as if I had little choice. And, before I begin, I should say that the reviews I read were ALL favorable. My voice, though, is not raised in praise; to the contrary, I want to shout out to everyone who might be willing to listen, that I found Never Tell a Lie, by Hallie Ephron, to be a perfect example of the formulaic fiction one finds in most of today’s media—as the title suggests, I’ll never tell a lie!

I want to apologize to Ms. Ephron; it’s not her fault, really. I could write this same review of myriad books, many of which have sold, or will sell, very well. In fact, Never Tell a Lie should sell well, and might have the makings of a television drama or motion picture—neither of which I’ll see. But, her book is, if nothing else, well thought out, and well plotted. Her story provides an escape, the characters who should be likeable, are, and those who shouldn’t be, are not. The reader isn’t forced to decide whose side to be on; nor is one’s mind challenged with new concepts to conjure—something considered too trying in most of today’s fiction. In short, there’s no real risk associated in following along this tried and true track, which is exactly what I find wrong with this book and all those like it.

Even though I don’t classify myself as a lover of mysteries, I do immensely enjoy good literature, and if a mystery is presented in such a circumstance, then it is a book I would covet. But, as one whose mind is constantly in search of exercise, I fail to understand the need to be mindlessly entertained. And, I have to say I found this story to be utterly predictable. At times, I was reminded of those very one-hour television dramas I don’t watch—the ones where anyone with half a brain knows “who done it” before the first commercial. In the case of Never Tell a Lie, the “who done it” is obvious if only for the fact that it just couldn’t have been anyone else. If it were a movie, I’d have felt baited into wasting money on popcorn—not as meaningless an expense as in the past!

I’m not going to provide a rehashing of the plot—if you happen to be interested, there are plenty of spots on the Internet where it’s available, for the Ephron sisters have an obvious gift for self-marketing. I’m not even going to tell you not to buy the book—if you’re after a bit of predictable escape and the television is on the fritz, then perhaps you should. Ms. Ephron hails from a family of writers, all of whom, it seems, are well aware of the formula for success. Yet still, I wish here well in her endeavors, just as I wish all writers well. I won’t, however, be finding myself drawn to any of her future releases.