Review of DEAR DAUGHTER by Elizabeth Little (Viking, 2014)
I haven’t done meth, nor will I ever, but I have seen enough Breaking Bad to know what it should look and feel like. Elizabeth Little’s first novel DEAR DAUGHTER does much of the same, rocketing readers along with all the speed and adrenaline of a carjacker in a Mustang while high on Blue Sky.
DEAR DAUGHTER follows Janie Jenkins, a former Hollywood starlet known for being Janie Jenkins—on par with Kim Kardashian known for being Kim Kardashian but, thanks to Little’s character development and a strong and consistent voice much, much more interesting. Jenkins was also accused and them imprisoned for the murder of her philanthropist mother. After a decade spent in prison, her case is thrown out because of a technicality and the mishandling of evidence. Once released, Jenkins changes her identity with the help of her lawyer—the only person who believes she didn’t do it (Jenkins isn’t so sure herself)—and takes off to South Dakota in an attempt to uncover who really killed her mother all the while pursued by the media who are eager to find out what happened to Jenkins post-release.
Once in the small South Dakota town that is equal parts Deliverance and The Stepford Wives, Jenkins begins to unravel a mystery that reaches far beyond the bedroom where her mother was found dead. Jenkins must confront not only the possibility that her own identity will be revealed to the gossip-hungry media, but that the murderer may also know where she is and want to settle a score. Will she find the killer? Will she make it out of the Middle of Nowhere, South Dakota alive? Little forces readers to ask these questions over and over as Jenkins herself asks the very same throughout her quest.
Page after page of DD is saturated with tight, smart narrative. Jenkins’s voice is well-tooled—not once does she come off as too much or too saccharine, playing into stereotypical mystery novels. Instead, Little gives us a character that has a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore and the mordant nature to want to divest herself of said chip. While Jenkins is the most thoroughly-constructed character, and rightfully so, some of the other players in Jenkins game are not as fleshed out and because of this, fall flat at times. Little tries, but there are times that the townsfolk Jenkins interacts with come across simply as actors filling the bit parts of Old Timey stereotypes—the conflicted sheriff, the town crook, the somewhat rebellious lesbians. All these characters shine bright in certain moments but come off as tarnished in others.
Some of the more interesting parts of DD are the chapter breaks, which take the form of a variety of releases from media. Little does well to land the different voices for the different pieces, moving almost seamlessly between text messages, news bulletins, blog posts, and possibly the most entertaining of all the breaks, a Wikipedia page. Some of the utility of these various posts seems forced—they end up playing a major role in one of the character’s storylines—but they do not do anything that clues in any other mystery novel would do. It becomes evident, the more one reads, how important these pieces are the narrative arc. They fill in the undercurrent and the background of the story without unnecessary prose, allowing Little to zoom through the actual narrative and maintain a feverish pace with relative ease.
The only time Little’s choice of using the media is questionable comes at the end, when, after the narrative ends, Little gives three pieces in a row, filling in the details of what happened after the final scene. It is an interesting choice in that Little did so much work to develop a strong character only to drop her a few pages early in favor of characters who only figured into the story in middling ways. It makes the narrative stop too abruptly. The possibilities for what would come next are clear at the end of the story, and it could’ve very easily stayed that way without merely throwing it out in a press release style.
In her first novel, Elizabeth Little provides readers with a great taste of potentially what is to come. You could choose any series of adjectives usually reserved for action movies to appropriately describe DD, and it would be okay, because they would fit. The novel is as pulse-pounding as Die Hard, as highly-charged as Speed and as thrilling as any one of The Expendables, though to be fair, Little has chosen (smartly) to not involve every past-his-prime action actor from the last three decades in her work. If she chose to do so in her next novel, though, surely DD is a sign that she’d be able to do it and do it well.











