"Cause of death, age of death."

There are certain themes that speak to just about every reader, and the idea of learning your future is one of them. What would you do if you knew how long you had left to live? Would you try to change the outcome for the better, or just surrender to destiny? Those are the thoughts that every single passenger on the flight from Hobart to Sydney would grapple with in the weeks and months following that fateful journey.

But the problem with that theme is that inevitably, the premise is more profound than what comes after. And so here, we have the same problem. After the portentous event, we follow multiple characters as they go back to living their lives, and they're all the sort of somewhat interesting but mostly humdrum lives you'd expect of anyone learning they could (or could not) die in the near (or far) future.

I don't blame Liane Moriarty, at least not entirely. I can't recall a single time any book has tried to tackle this theme and ended up wowing me. No doubt it's a seductive topic, but it's one where when you dig a little deeper, the result can only be one cliché after another — live each day as if it's your last, do the thing you've been putting off, don't let love pass you by, open your eyes to what's in front of you, so on and so forth.

But what I do blame Liane Moriarty for is the extreme unevenness between the various points of view. In true ensemble cast style, every character must have a turn, no matter how compelling or dull their perspectives. And it's just our luck that the one Moriarty chooses to focus on the most, the lady who makes the predictions, is the dullest of them all.

At least with the other characters' points of view, they have all just learned of their supposed demise, and so there is something worthwhile and interesting to fixate on. But with Cherry, there isn't anything of that sort. She's the catalyst of everyone else's crisis, but she herself is rather boring, fussy, and even a bit unlikeable. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, we are forced to read through her entire origin story, and it really sucked the life out of the whole tale.

I'm honestly puzzled. This book was way too long for its content, and we could've easily trimmed off the bulk of the meander by condensing or even axing Cherry's point of view. But as it stands, her parts were such a nonstory, they just added dull upon dull to the narrative. I thought maybe her account was included because we would eventually come upon some incredible revelation or insight, but no, I read/skimmed through it all just to be sure there wasn't.

Liane Moriarty does best when she focuses on dysfunctional domestic drama while adding in her signature sprinkles of wit and satire. But this story veered too far off course. Even though some of the characters were interesting, the Cherry narrative really dragged the whole thing down and left me with a rather tedious taste in my mouth.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

I've got to hand it to Liane Moriarty. Apples Never Fall has got to be one of the most scintillating family dramas I've ever read.

Joy Delaney, beloved wife and mother of four, has disappeared. Her adult children are rightfully aghast, but they're reluctant to report her missing. They know the prime suspect will be their father, and to be honest, they're not quite sure of his innocence. When the police starts asking questions, it quickly becomes clear everyone in the family has stories to tell and secrets to hide. But how long can they hold out before all is laid bare?

First and foremost, this is a story about dysfunctional families, and I just love me a good one of those. Every member of the Delaney family is distinct and compelling, and when you throw in the game of tennis, sibling rivalries, the mother's disappearance, and that decidedly strange interloper to their family home, the tale gets interesting real quick.

I can't get over the premise. It's such a fascinating dilemma, and I couldn't stop myself from chewing it over. What would I do in this situation—would I side with my father or against him if I suspected he murdered my mother? I love a good moral quandary, and this story perfectly captured the nuances that such a predicament would bring to a family.

What I've always adored about Moriarty's writing is her sharp and astute observations about people and their flaws. She has this ability to peel back the layers of family relationships and what it means to be human, and to expose everything beautiful and ugly within, all the while injecting just the right amount of humor. This book hit upon tender subjects familiar to everyone, yet instead of making me cry, it made me laugh.

Needless to say, I found the whole thing to be utterly riveting. The characters were memorable, the dialogue snappy, and the strife felt all too real. I devoured it in just a few days. And while the mystery wasn't the core of this book, there were still plenty of revelations along the way to keep me on my toes.

If I had one quibble, it would have to be the ending. I'm not a fan of when a story is clearly wrapped up, and then the author goes on to continue some more, often to its detriment. And that's kind of what happened here. The last few chapters really weren't necessary, and including them caused the story to veer off course and end on a slight odd note. But that's a minor complaint, and I could very well ignore that last bit in my head (which I've already done) in favor of the rest of the story.

If you're considering this, do keep one thing in mind—to properly enjoy it, you have to have the right mindset. This isn't a mystery/thriller and you would be sorely disappointed if you went in expecting that. In fact, this isn't even its milder domestic suspense cousin. This is straight up a dysfunctional family drama, and Joy's disappearance is simply a plot device used to drive the narrative forward.

I feel like when Liane Moriarty writes what she knows best, there's almost nothing better. And this tale of the dysfunctional Delaney family certainly turned out to be quite the startling and dazzling gem.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

This book feels a lot like its more famous successor Big Little Lies, only without any of the fun or insight.

In both stories, we follow three women facing their own problems and dilemmas. Here in The Husband's Secret, we have Cecilia, Rachel, and Tess. Cecilia is at the center of this story. Her husband is the one with the earth-shattering secret, and before we are through, each of the three women will feel its repercussions.

Okay, if I had to pinpoint the biggest issue for me, it’s probably the bland and strangely indistinguishable characters. I had trouble keeping them and their children and relatives—of which there were many—square and straight throughout the story, and they somehow all blended together in my mind.

They also weren't exactly the most likeable of people. They were fairly wrapped up in themselves, and it made it hard to connect with them. Here we have these characters each dealing with their own bad fortunes and predicaments, and yet, I just couldn't make myself care. At times, I even caught myself hoping things wouldn't work out in their favor, which was rather discombobulating since I knew I was supposed to cheer for them.

And then there were the actual issues they were each facing. Their moral dilemmas should’ve been interesting and given me much food for thought, but here again, I just couldn't get into them. There was something that didn't quite ring true about the whole thing, as if I knew these characters were not real and neither were their issues, and I was being sold a story all along.

This all sounds terrible, but it really wasn't that bad. It just lacks the wit and spark I've come to associate with Liane Moriarty. Of course, this story is one of her older ones and every writer grows with experience, so maybe this was the necessary stepping stone on the way to writing bigger and better books. If so, I guess I'm okay with that.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

My favorite Liane Moriarty, Big Little Lies is so compelling, so superb in a multitude of ways, it makes me rethink every 5-star rating I have ever given.

On the surface, this seems like a story I've read a thousand times before. A neighborhood of women keeping secrets. A death, or could it possibly be murder? And an investigation into what really happened underneath the calm, placid facade of small town Pirriwee. And yet, this was so much more, and I'm still reeling from just how hard it hit me.

From the very first page, this book held me in its thralls. I couldn't put it down, I couldn't look away. Every scene, every character, every conflict, they all felt so vividly drawn. There is a sharpness to the writing and the observations that is so searing and spot-on, it could almost feel a little painful if not for the humor.

And this book was definitely funny. I often found myself grinning and chuckling along, trying to savor all the witty lines. If I were the sort to freely wield a highlighter at every whim, I'm pretty sure I would've marked up the entire thing. With satire, my preferences are always for the subtle. Is Liane Moriarty actually being serious or is she really poking gentle fun at the characters and us in turn? That fine line between truth and exaggeration is where her writing style really shines, as does her keen eye for the absurdity of human nature.

We take our turn following three different characters. Now usually when that's the case, it would inevitably lead to one or the other perspective being more interesting, while the rest are relegated to the role of the ugly stepchildren. But no such fears here. Every single narrative arc was just as interesting and compelling as the next, and I couldn't gobble them up fast enough.

I have to talk about one of the core themes of this book and a big reason why this was such an impactful read for me. Domestic violence, at least for those of us who are fortunate enough never to have experienced it, has always felt like a somewhat nebulous concept. Of course we sympathize with the victims, but underlying all that is always the vaguely puzzled questions—why do they stay? why don't they just leave? With this story, Liane Moriarty has sketched out with so much skill and emotional clarity exactly all of those reasons why. And in the process, she has given a voice to domestic violence victims and brought them to life.

Every page of this book has felt like a breath of fresh air, equal parts biting and invigorating. Everything I'd want in a story—light and dark, funny and scary, entertaining and insightful—is all here. Surely it should be impossible to achieve all that in one single book, yet through some special alchemy, Liane Moriarty has managed to do just that. And the result is something memorable and extraordinary indeed.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

Women's fiction at its best, What Alice Forgot is everything I've come to love from Liane Moriarty.

Alice gets bumped on her head and loses ten years of her memory. The last thing she remembers is being twenty-nine, in love with her husband Nick, and pregnant with their first child. Instead, she's now thirty-nine, has three children, and is about to get divorced. As she tries to piece together what happened, she must figure out who she really is and all that's important to her.

At first glance, this seems like a fluffy beach read of second chances and domestic drama. But the more I read, the more I discovered. Relationships are not easy, and the complexity of them and how the years can cause them to deteriorate is deftly captured in here. I found both Alice and Nick to be sympathetic characters, and could see how life and the stress of raising three children wore them out.

I also enjoyed the storyline with Alice's sister. Though I normally don't gravitate towards plots with siblings falling out or infertility, something about the way this was written made it feel universal. We all have family members we have less than stellar relationships with, and we all dream of things we want that we don't have. I found the exploration of when to give up and move on, versus staying and hoping, to be skillfully done.

Moriarty's writing is always eminently readable, and this book is no different. Once I started, I found it unputdownable. It was easy to get swept away into this story of interesting, complex characters and their difficult choices. There's also this subtle humor sprinkled throughout that keeps it from becoming too maudlin or sappy.

Still, it stays true to the genre, so eventually everyone gets what they want and everything is wrapped up neatly. But that doesn't detract from the story, which I found to be nuanced and fascinating. This is definitely one of my favorites from Liane Moriarty.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

In Nine Perfect Strangers, nine people arrive for a ten-day health cleanse at Tranquillum House. Each one is there for a different reason, but they have all been promised a transformative experience. But could there be more going on than meets the eye at Tranquillum House? And what is each guest's story?

This book falls squarely into the over-promised category. It was promoted as a thriller and a mystery, but it wasn't either, really. There were a few small reveals that kept the story interesting, but this book is mostly about its characters. We follow the guests and the people running Tranquillum House, discovering what happened that led each of them here and their progress as they work towards a better and happier version of themselves, even in the face of some odd happenings.

The characters are interesting, though some get more development than others simply because there are quite a few of them. Moriarty sprinkles her typical wit and sharp observations throughout, which led to a few good chuckles. She has this way of writing that grabs me immediately and pulls me into her story, and this is no exception.

I did feel a little let down at the end that nothing more exciting was going to happen since I waited for that through the entire book. But even without the mystery/thriller that was promised, I found this to be an engaging and fun read.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars