"A slow build to a disappointing conclusion.

Vanishing Girls pulls out an ambitious reveal towards the end that would have caused uproar of the very best kind about five to ten years ago. However, I agree with Wendy's summation of the "twist"... in 2015, this just isn't that original or different anymore. A person who's read a bunch of psychological thrillers will see the ending coming from a mile off.

But that's not all. I've steadily developed more and more of a dislike for the way Lauren Oliver writes. Other reviewers and professional critics have commented on how much she has improved as a writer since her early days of Before I Fall and such. I know why they're all saying that, but I adamantly disagree. In fact, I find today's Lauren Oliver to be an author who writes some incredibly awkward sentences, especially when using similes. She compares her characters' actions and feelings to things that a) make me cringe, and/or b) make no sense.

“It bothers me that she calls it the Drink. That’s our name for it, a nonsense nickname that stuck, and it feels wrong that she knows—like a doctor probing your mouth with his fingers.�

I appreciate that this is something personal to me and many people probably understand the relationship between someone knowing a nickname and the sensation of a doctor probing your mouth, but it just reads so clumsy and awkward to me. Okay, I'm not an idiot. I'm guessing that she means the knowledge of the nickname feels intrusive, like a doctor's fingers also would, but it still doesn't seem to fit. Take this sentence I made up:

The weather was breezy and cold, so Sam wore layer after layer of clothing - like an onion.

Get it? She has layers... like an onion. True, but it still sounds stupid. I only wrote down one example, but I've noticed this multiple times in Vanishing Girls, and also in Rooms. One more example from the latter so you can get an idea what I mean:

"His motions are erratic, like a scarecrow that has just come to life and has to compensate for a spine full of stuffing."

I know picking apart the language makes it seem like I'm fussing over nothing, but these comparisons/similes happen often and are so odd that I find myself being pulled out of the story and thinking "huh?"

Still, Oliver draws you into the relationship between the two sisters - Nick and Dara - and their lives. I like how she portrays the intricate layers of love and jealousy they have for each other. The majority of the novel reads like a slow-moving contemporary, but I still managed to be pulled along to the end by the promise of something interesting and twisty happening.

Unfortunately, too much hangs on the ending. I was dragged through the book by my need to know what was going on and what would happen, only to discover that my early suspicions had been correct. If you're new to thrillers, then I can see you enjoying this book but, if not, I don't think you'll find anything mind-blowing.

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"A few years back I read Oliver's debut novel - Before I Fall - and I was a mess of emotions. I thought the book was beautiful, moving and a completely realistic portrait of a teen girl's mind and journey to self-awareness. Since then, I have awaited every new release by Lauren Oliver, just hoping to be taken back to the places where that first book took me.

Delirium jumped on the dystopian bandwagon and failed to convince me with its whole "love is a disease" concept. Liesl & Po was a cute kid's book but too young and a little pointless for my tastes. And the more recent addition - Panic - was yet another with a dystopian "feel", this time experimenting with a different kind of slow-moving plot that bored me so much I never made it to the end. And now with Rooms I think it may be time for me to put Oliver's books behind me. Maybe that first one was a fluke, maybe she's just branched off in a completely different direction... but either way I did not like this book. Not the writing. Not the characters.

I'm intrigued by the idea - I don't even need to use past tense, I still think it was an interesting premise. The story alternates between different perspectives, some from the living who have come to clean out Richard Walker's house after he has died and some from the ghosts that haunt said house. The idea of weaving together a story built out of what the living tell us and what these ghosts have actually witnessed over the years is quite fascinating. I just don't think it ever lived up to its potential.

It's an odd book that never grows into its weirdness, which is only made worse by the author's use of deliberately miserable, depressing and sometimes downright gross descriptions. I don't think the many different POVs in a relatively small novel help you to warm to the characters, but worst of all is the language. It tries so hard to be depressing (which I guess is supposed to make it more meaningful). The descriptions of every single character are deliberately negative. The narrative itself is unattractive. Not a dark, gritty, interesting kind of ugly. Just a plain, boring, acne-ridden kind.

“Take Minna. Alice is always going on about how beautiful she is. Yeah, if you like that look—a great big pair of fake tits screwed on like a lid, and eyes that always look like they’re trying to see through your pants to how much money you’ve got in your wallet.�

“What can I say about Trenton? A sad sprout of a human being, halfway between a boy and a broccoli. Then there’s Caroline, a big sodden biscuit, soaked morning through night.�

Breasts are particularly vile creatures in this novel, mentioned often and always described in a bad way; for example, as “mosquito bites�. It's like every single thing that is described must be attached to a repulsive metaphor.

Another thing, which I mentioned recently in a review of a YA book, is how it bugs me when metaphors and similes really do not make sense. It's obviously an attempt to be quirky and "deep", but I don't understand what "a big sodden biscuit" says about someone's personality. And this one too:

“His motions are erratic, like a scarecrow that has just come to life and has to compensate for a spine full of stuffing.�

I mean... what??? Such a strange analogy.

This is a book that kind of depends on a love of the writing and characters to hook you in. If that doesn't work for you, there's not much else to pull you into the story. Which is why I found it so dull and easy to put down.

I think this is where me and Lauren Oliver part ways.

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