A review by cozybec
Archer's Voice, by Mia Sheridan
dark
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
1.0
Don't read this review if you love this book, you will hate my guts.
I just want to preface this review by saying I completely gave this up and DNF'd at 50%, the rest of the book I skimmed and got the general plot and just said screw it to finishing this. I cannot believe people think this is one of the best love stories ever written. Maybe I'm just in the minority here, the reviews would seem to agree with that statement - but this book is bad.
Archer's Voice follows Bree, which after a traumatic experience moves to a small town in Maine that she used to visit in the summers with her parents. It's when she moves to the town that she has a chance meeting with Archer Hale, a local man who seems to be self-isolating and has no friends, though his family owns the town. As Bree and Archer get closer, the mystery of what happened to Archer's parents finally comes to light, exposing the town's murky past.
This book was written in 2014 so I automatically cut it enough slack from the get-go. I'm no stranger to reading books from decades ago, so I (wrongfully) assumed this one wouldn't startle me too much with the content, but when I say it went in with the ableism, it went in. I cannot even begin to describe how freaking uncomfortable I was with Bree's narration surrounding Archer and his inability to speak. Multiple times she refers to him as her "strong silent man" or "mute boy" and every single time he was infantilized I wanted to rip my hair out at the roots and throw my iPad against a wall. Archer was raised by his uncle (who suffered from severe PTSD after being a soldier) in a remote house, was homeschooled, and subsequently we, as the reader, are made to expect he's innocent and doesn't know anything about the world. Each time he was discussed or his POVs came up, I felt nauseous at the way the author chose to make his thoughts so child-like, not understanding sex or these blatantly traumatic situations he was being put in. He also came off as extremely autistic coded, and though it's never mentioned on page (that I saw) this only made me hate the infantilization of his character even more.
The writing in this book is so, unbearably bad, I've read better fan-published works than this from the early 2000s. There were frequent mistakes (in a book nearly a decade old!! Fix the manuscript!) and the kind of flat, bland writing I'd expect from an article about paint drying. Some of the sentences completely pulled me out of this book, in a way that jarred me enough I had to start highlighting them. Bree once thinks, "and of all the bitchy, condescending... bitches! Who were really bitchy!" and my brain short-circuited because, genuinely, who has internal dialogue like this? Let alone the frequent use of cursing on the calibre of middle schoolers?
The characters were laughably one-dimensional. We get some classics in here like the "town jock, who's privileged and a jerk" and the "busy-body old neighbor who drinks tea on her porch." These characters only become a mockery of themselves because of the things they say, like a certain character mentioning that sex in a strip club is alright because his friend, "has been married for almost ten years now, and he still takes advantage of the girls in the back rooms. His wife looks the other way because she benefits from it, too. Get it?" I think I pulled away from the book at that point to stare at the ceiling and question what I was doing with my time.
Lastly, maybe it's on me, maybe I should have paid more attention to the content warnings - but the content in this book made me so painfully uncomfortable. Multiple characters are coerced into sexual situations without fully understanding what's going on - there's attempted rape in the past and a severe, gross mishandling of PTSD after the fact. I cannot in good faith ever recommend this book to a survivor because as one myself, this was so poorly done and mismanaged. I saw quite a few people upset over the way Bree's character handles her flashbacks, which personally, I didn't find an issue with those - it's the "magical cure" for them that had me genuinely angry at this piece of fiction.
I saw the ending coming a thousand miles away and while skimming, it just confirmed to me the plot that was slowly set up the entire first half. Honestly, this book would be 30% it's length without the absolutely cringe-inducing sex scenes and bizzare, Hallmark Mysteries level side-plot it ventured down. I think it broke me and I'm going to go touch some grass and pray I don't remember a single line of this novel in the morning.
Content warnings: on page panic attacks, depictions of PTSD flashbacks, sexual content, car crash description, death of parents, shooting, gun violence, ableism, past attempted rape, mentions of sexual assault, harassment, coercion, and probably more that I'm missing.
I just want to preface this review by saying I completely gave this up and DNF'd at 50%, the rest of the book I skimmed and got the general plot and just said screw it to finishing this. I cannot believe people think this is one of the best love stories ever written. Maybe I'm just in the minority here, the reviews would seem to agree with that statement - but this book is bad.
Archer's Voice follows Bree, which after a traumatic experience moves to a small town in Maine that she used to visit in the summers with her parents. It's when she moves to the town that she has a chance meeting with Archer Hale, a local man who seems to be self-isolating and has no friends, though his family owns the town. As Bree and Archer get closer, the mystery of what happened to Archer's parents finally comes to light, exposing the town's murky past.
This book was written in 2014 so I automatically cut it enough slack from the get-go. I'm no stranger to reading books from decades ago, so I (wrongfully) assumed this one wouldn't startle me too much with the content, but when I say it went in with the ableism, it went in. I cannot even begin to describe how freaking uncomfortable I was with Bree's narration surrounding Archer and his inability to speak. Multiple times she refers to him as her "strong silent man" or "mute boy" and every single time he was infantilized I wanted to rip my hair out at the roots and throw my iPad against a wall. Archer was raised by his uncle (who suffered from severe PTSD after being a soldier) in a remote house, was homeschooled, and subsequently we, as the reader, are made to expect he's innocent and doesn't know anything about the world. Each time he was discussed or his POVs came up, I felt nauseous at the way the author chose to make his thoughts so child-like, not understanding sex or these blatantly traumatic situations he was being put in. He also came off as extremely autistic coded, and though it's never mentioned on page (that I saw) this only made me hate the infantilization of his character even more.
The writing in this book is so, unbearably bad, I've read better fan-published works than this from the early 2000s. There were frequent mistakes (in a book nearly a decade old!! Fix the manuscript!) and the kind of flat, bland writing I'd expect from an article about paint drying. Some of the sentences completely pulled me out of this book, in a way that jarred me enough I had to start highlighting them. Bree once thinks, "and of all the bitchy, condescending... bitches! Who were really bitchy!" and my brain short-circuited because, genuinely, who has internal dialogue like this? Let alone the frequent use of cursing on the calibre of middle schoolers?
The characters were laughably one-dimensional. We get some classics in here like the "town jock, who's privileged and a jerk" and the "busy-body old neighbor who drinks tea on her porch." These characters only become a mockery of themselves because of the things they say, like a certain character mentioning that sex in a strip club is alright because his friend, "has been married for almost ten years now, and he still takes advantage of the girls in the back rooms. His wife looks the other way because she benefits from it, too. Get it?" I think I pulled away from the book at that point to stare at the ceiling and question what I was doing with my time.
Lastly, maybe it's on me, maybe I should have paid more attention to the content warnings - but the content in this book made me so painfully uncomfortable. Multiple characters are coerced into sexual situations without fully understanding what's going on - there's attempted rape in the past and a severe, gross mishandling of PTSD after the fact. I cannot in good faith ever recommend this book to a survivor because as one myself, this was so poorly done and mismanaged. I saw quite a few people upset over the way Bree's character handles her flashbacks, which personally, I didn't find an issue with those - it's the "magical cure" for them that had me genuinely angry at this piece of fiction.
I saw the ending coming a thousand miles away and while skimming, it just confirmed to me the plot that was slowly set up the entire first half. Honestly, this book would be 30% it's length without the absolutely cringe-inducing sex scenes and bizzare, Hallmark Mysteries level side-plot it ventured down. I think it broke me and I'm going to go touch some grass and pray I don't remember a single line of this novel in the morning.
Content warnings: on page panic attacks, depictions of PTSD flashbacks, sexual content, car crash description, death of parents, shooting, gun violence, ableism, past attempted rape, mentions of sexual assault, harassment, coercion, and probably more that I'm missing.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Sexual assault, Sexual content, Death of parent, and Gun violence
Moderate: Panic attacks/disorders, Rape, and Car accident