Book Review: Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera
As a book blogger, it’s rare for me to dive into a world that I usually sidestep, especially when it comes to true crime narratives. But when I heard that Listen for the Lie was penned by Amy Tintera—a talent I’ve admired for her immersive storytelling—I couldn’t resist giving it a chance. However, as I ventured into Lucy’s chaotic world on Outlier Island, I found myself wishing my passport hadn’t arrived just yet. Let’s unravel this twisty tale together, shall we?
Lucy Harper’s life goes from glamorous to grim in a heartbeat. Spoiler alert: it starts with her best friend Savvy’s tragic death, where Lucy is found covered in her blood, a horrific scene she struggles to remember. The fallout is immediate, and though Lucy avoids jail time, she bears the weight of an unsolved murder in her small Texas hometown. When she escapes to L.A. for a fresh start, her past catches up with her in a most ironic way: through a true crime podcast hosted by the dreamy Ben Walsh, who’s determined to reopen the case surrounding Savvy’s murder.
The premise itself piqued my interest, but as I immersed myself in Lucy’s narrative, I grappled with my own frustrations. The podcasting aspect felt more tedious than tantalizing. I found it difficult to get captivated by the interchangeable voices of townspeople sharing their accounts. While I wanted that thrilling rush of unveiling secrets, the book frequently bordered on monotonous. Where was the suspense?
Lucy’s character added an entirely different layer to my reading experience. I aimed to connect with her—after all, she’s our guide through this labyrinth of drama and psychic discord. But her perpetual humor about killing folks struck me more as offbeat rather than engaging. I couldn’t help but think of Rizzo’s famous line from Grease, likening Lucy’s vibe to someone who’s just "too pure to be pink." Her snark didn’t resonate and instead felt forced, which made rooting for her a chore rather than an urge.
While humor can be a saving grace in darker tales, Lucy’s quirks sent my mind spiraling. There’s one particular moment I found vexing: the little voice in her head persistently repeating "Kill… kill." It became a jarring loop that made it hard to take her seriously. When a story relies heavily on a character’s internal monologue for levity, it risks losing the reader’s investment.
As the plot meandered, I found myself glancing at my page numbers as the most significant revelations dripped in right before the finish line. It was a lesson in patience for sure—not the thrilling kind, but rather the “why am I still here?” kind. The encounter between love interest Ben and Lucy felt far more like a drawn-out romantic subplot than an integral part of the mystery, adding an unnecessary layer of tension rather than unraveling any satisfying answers.
Despite my gripes, Tintera’s transition from YA to thrillers does prove she has a knack for crafting layered narratives, even if this one left me wanting.
In conclusion, if you’re someone who revels in true crime podcast culture or enjoys plotlines that blend romance with thrills, Listen for the Lie might just tickle your fancy. For those like me, who prefer a stronger dose of plot-driven suspense over introspective banter, it might feel like a letdown. I walked away from this book feeling a sense of disappointment mixed with respect for Tintera’s ambitious efforts. And as I echoed Lucy’s parting sentiment—“I remembered that I hate true crime podcasts”—I couldn’t help but find solace in knowing I wasn’t alone in my feelings.
⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ (3/5 stars)
Let me know your thoughts if you decide to take the plunge!