Thank goodness The Doll is back on the shelf. Maybe now I can get a full night’s rest. It has been some time since I’ve found a book compelling enough to trigger that “maybe just one more chapter” reader’s syndrome. Finally put the book down and – next thing you know – the alarm clock rings in the morning’s start.
Here’s the thing. The author’s own story is as gripping as those involving her semi-psycho heroine.
The Doll is actually the third outing for Texas author Taylor Stevens and her somewhat androgynous character, Vanessa Michael Munroe. Some aspects of the character might have been clearer had I read the first two books, but The Doll manages to stand alone with a minimal amount of character backstory-rehash. Unlike some authors, who awkwardly reach into the character cupboard for the box of honey-covered recaps, Ms Stevens works those details into the narrative without a glaring spotlight.
Munroe, the book’s heroine, might be a cross between Jason Bourne and Lisbeth Salander. There is a dark history that shapes Munroe’s actions, which are often reactive and delivered with the speed of a striking viper. She has the combat proficiency of super-survivor Bourne and the same hyperawareness that enables him to escape the many deadly situations he encounters. Salander, the dark genius of Stieg Larssen’s Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy, must be a near-cousin to Munroe and the physical and mental scars she bears from her abused past.
It’s easy to envision a movie producer jumping on Michael Munroe, with ideas of a strong-female protagonist film franchise.
And the writing?
Ms. Stevens has a style reminiscent of several others, with her own quirks and techniques. Some work for me better than others, but there are passages in which the author gives the reader credit for some intelligence rather than hanging an “explain all” billboard in the next sentence. You may have read those CSI-type abbreviation references in some books, where the author explains the words behind the letters in the next sentence.
Here’s a concocted example: The SAMSAT brigade rolled up in their armored rig and poured out like center-ring clowns at Barnum and Bailey. The San Antonio Medical Society Attack Team was known for their SWAT unit approach to fundraising. And it was no surprise that the Special Weapons And Tactics unit had failed to make good on their pledge three years running.
Taylor Stevens sometimes gives a full explanatory reference much later on, and it seemed to me that on more than one occasion, she offered no glossary at all. Which was just fine. Acronym schooling rarely pushes the story forward and is usually incidental to the plot.
As for the author’s history, I wish I had waited until I finished reading the book to satisfy my curiosity. When I’m enjoying a story, I often look up the writer’s bio. Tom Clancy, for example, wrote highly-technical military espionage stories, but never served in the armed forces. He was an insurance agent who wrote The Hunt for Red October in his spare time.
When I went in search of Ms. Stevens’ background, I discovered a bio that included cult communes, nomadic lifestyles, separation from family, street life, and a lack of formal education. Of course, I understand that educational experiences often relate to intelligence only tangentially.
As well as any autodidact, I realize that life presents itself as a global classroom and that day-to-day interactions can be the fodder for fantastic fiction and character development. We “live and learn,” as they say.
Her website includes an admission that Ms. Stevens has fallen into cliché on occasion, due to her limited exposure to fiction. I can relate to that, having once written what I thought was the greatest science fiction time-travel conundrum ever put down on paper, only to learn it was probably the most hackneyed dead-horse of a plot ever left for reworking. I was young.
As I read The Doll, I found myself, upon encountering a particularly impressive passage, falling out of the story to reflect on the fact that it was produced by an author with little formal education. I imagine after reading her somewhat vague bio, I had fashioned a clunky stereotype – one that made the sophistication of her writing incongruous with her professed training (or lack thereof).
For all I know, Ms. Stevens may have gone through an immersion similar to mine, when I discovered I’d missed many of the 19th century classics, and read Dumas, Dickens, Hardy, Defoe, and the like – at the kitchen table, where I could keep a large dictionary placed nearby. I have a pretty good (though conversationally useless) Victorian vocabulary as a result.
With so many authors and so many books, I feel slightly guilty when I read more than one book by any particular author. People ask me “Who writes like James Patterson? I’ve read all his books.” I read a variety to be able to answer. The Girl with the Jason Bourne skills? That would be Vanessa Michael Munroe, the next installment of which I hope to be diving headlong into – forthwith.
Want a copy of your own?
Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!
