Crime & Mystery
Some thrillers wear their cleverness like a loud shirt. This one doesn’t.
The Living and the Dead in Winsford works because it lets the Exmoor setting do a lot of the heavy lifting. The unease builds properly, slowly, and it never feels obliged to explain itself to death. That’s usually a good sign. Not every mystery needs to arrive with fireworks and a smug little bow on top.
The Living and the Dead in Winsford works because it lets the Exmoor setting do a lot of the heavy lifting. The unease builds properly, slowly, and it never feels obliged to explain itself to death. That’s usually a good sign. Not every mystery needs to arrive with fireworks and a smug little bow on top.
Exmoor doing the work is often the right move. Some thrillers seem terrified of silence, so they keep dropping in another trick to prove they’re still awake. Atmospheric restraint is usually more interesting, provided it doesn’t turn into soggy vagueness by page 150. I’m always more interested in whether the unease has somewhere to go than whether the book can sprint.