Security

“The best security is invisible security. The best safety is safety that one's object of protection doesn't know about.”

Security is really best described as a slasher film in book form and it hits all the right notes in that regard. It follows Tessa, the hotel manager at Manderly Resort, the newest, flashiest, high-profile resort hotel on the Santa Barbara coast. As she oversees the staff in their preparations for Manderly's grand opening the next day a killer is stalking the halls, murdering everyone that crosses his path. All of this is narrated by a mysterious stranger who is watching the bloodbath over the hotel's closed-circuit security system.

Told in a third-person omniscient voice, Security has a different feel that other novels. Because the narrator is telling the reader what happens as they view it on the hotel's incredibly comprehensive security cameras, we not only get a play-by-play of the horror as it happens but also this unknown viewers opinions which are often laced with a bit of dark humor. For example, we get this scene in the kitchen.

“Brian attacked the grease on his hands with a kitchen towel. The towel has red stains on it, most likely cherry coulis. One could not rule out the possibility that it was not cherry coulis.”

One of the things that makes this book unique is how the author chooses to show simultaneous action. The pages are split in half, thirds, or quarters with each “scene” playing out in those sections, giving the impression that they're being viewed on side-by-side television screens as they are being relayed to the reader by our mysterious narrator. In any other book this might feel gimmicky but here it's used perfectly (and sparingly) to remind you how the narrator is privy to the events as they unfold. I also have to add that when you slowly start to realize who the narrator is your jaw will drop. It was a stroke of genius I never saw coming.

The characters were both stereotypical in their make-up - the tightly wound girl-boss, the faithful maid, the temperamental French chef, etc. - but incredibly well developed at the same time. The book follows traditional slasher-film rules so much that each death is predictable in a way that doesn't decrease enjoyment of the book. (I actually had fun guessing who would die next!) Despite all of the blood and gore there's a certain playfulness in it's tone that makes it a fun read. It doesn't take itself too seriously and, because of the format, as a reader you're able to join in on that fun. You'll find yourself thinking “NO! Don't open that door!” as you read, just like you would watching it on a screen. It was a total success in that regard.

With nods to Stephen King, Alfred Hitchcock, and of course Daphne du Maurier, this debut - DEBUT! - novel is a gift to horror fans. Security is funny, clever, bloody and tremendously incentive. It certainly isn't going to be for everyone, but if you like slasher films and don't mind a little gore in your life, give this a try.

(Thanks to Alegonquin and LibraryThing for a copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.)

I wanted to like this book more. I didn't hate it. I know, I say this quite a bit. In the end, I was disappointed.

It is a giant gimmick. I was expecting something of a gimmick, to be sure. But the gimmick, as far as I'm concerned, interferes with the prose. This writer writes some lovely sentences. But sometimes sentences add to the preciousness and pretentiousness of the gimmick. Which is that our narrator is a the security chief for the Manderley Hotel, the most luxurious and ridiculous hotel in the world–and he must watch everything occur on, like, 64 monitors as the shit hits the fan, and he can't do anything because he's close to dead, maybe–or can he do something? It's related to found footage, but this gimmick is usually iffy in literature; it's understandably hard to pull off.

That being said, the gimmick and her prose our more engaging than most of our characters, none of whom are very original or interesting. The manager is gay and awful (that's offensive). The FRENCH CHEF is basically an angry version of Chef Louis from ‘The Little Mermaid' (lovely stereotype). Two married caterers are tritely dysfunctional, with the wife being manic-depressive (which is fine, but she's a meh character, even though I prefer her to some of the others); and the husband is a cheating, immature bro. Our romantic leads are traumatized and scarred and love each other so romantically that the first time they have sex, it's picture perfect and magical and lasts forever, whilst the security chief–also in love with our trite heroine–looks on mournfully. Don't believe a review that talks about a layered love story. Sure, some amusing stuff happens with the internal dialogue of the security chief. But everything gets tired. The characters aren't strong enough, nor is the gimmick good enough, to maintain themselves for the duration of the novel.

So, yes, I wasn't bored, and I even enjoyed some of the prose. But I wouldn't give this more than 2.5 stars, and I don't feel like rounding up to three.