There is a reason Tarryn … (wait, what’s her name again?) Fisher is my favorite writer of all-time, and it was further solidified with Bad Mommy. I’ve read every single Tarryn book this year alone, and I’ve never read anything as deep and soul-stirring as her writing. She gets to the darkest depths of humanity, slashes it open, and spills it all over the pages of her books. Nothing can make me question my sanity like a Tarryn Fisher book. Nothing makes feel understood and not alone like her writing.
“When you live in your own head all the time, things contort. You have to voice your thoughts so you can know you’re not the only one who’s fucked up. It makes a big difference to know that.”
I can never figure out where her stories are headed when I think I have the first thing figured out, she switches gears and I’m in no-mans land again. Predictability is an author’s downfall in my eyes. I remember reading F*ck Love and thinking the whole story was some kind of weird dream, until the very end when I realized it wasn’t. Marrow was a total mind-f*ck. Mud Vein was the most one-of-a-kind work of art I’ve ever read. Don’t even get me started on The Love Me with Lies Series. A series told from three separate perspectives in three books of screwed-up humans that can’t make a correct decision to save their lives? I’ve never read anything like it before or since.
Bad Mommy is no different. The title gives the reader an idea of where we are headed, but once aboard this crazy train, we derail into untamed territory. Fig Coxbury wants to be Jolene Avery. She moves next door to Jolene and her family and inserts herself into their lives, as a friend. She needs to be close to observe and glean information for the new “her”. But when does flattery cross over to obsession and manipulation?
Bad Mommy takes readers into the lunacy that is found in female relationships. Can we really be true friends as women, or is there always an underlying motive? Can we ever really trust each other? Why are true friends so rare?
“There were three things that drew women into a hungry-eyed cluster: liquor, men, and gossip. Gossip was the strongest draw, but put all three together and you had a sort of desperate, heated frenzy on your hands.”
People have questioned why a “goody-two-shoes” like me would love Tarryn’s writing. She has a dirty mouth, one of her books has F*ck in the title for Pete’s sake, and she writes about a taboo subject matter. But like Tarryn, I’m intrigued by the human psyche. I would love to be able to read people’s minds, simply to better understand what makes people tick. I feel like when I understand humanity more fully, I can understand God better. Since I can’t eavesdrop on people’s brains, I have to settle for second best, their censored thoughts in the form of literature. But Tarryn doesn’t censor. She gives us everything and then some. Despite the villainy, she isn’t a heathen, all of her work features an underlying Biblical theme. Whether in the names of her characters or with direct Biblical ideology. This is one of my favorite things about her writing, trying to find the underlying messages of the story. I’ll still be reflecting on Bad Mommy for days to come. It’s like a code readers have to unravel.
Her books are addicting, and I’m drawn to the crazy. Most authors write pristine characters, with shocking good looks, and perfect relationships. I want none of this. The flaws Tarryn portrays are real. People always wonder how she comes up with such developed characters. As a writer should, Tarryn simply studies the crazy around her and her writing is always so much deeper than any surface level drama.
Everyone needs to read Bad Mommy. This book is purely artistic, original, and intoxicating literature. The entire story will leave you guessing until the very end. The last sentence even made me say “Whoa!” out loud. I’m still trying to figure out what the heck I read. I’m already bummed I’ll have to wait possibly another year for another book from our Evil Queen.
READ. THIS. BOOK now!
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