Wednesday, December 30, 2020

THE WRONG FAMILY :: Tarryn Fisher

A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.



When Juno Holland semi-accidentally winds up locked in the Seattle home of Winnie and Nigel Crouch while trespassing, she decides to take advantage of the opportunity to help them secretly. At 67, Juno has few pleasures left in life. Seriously ill and homeless after losing her family and her counseling practice, she wants to do some good before she dies. In The Wrong Family, Tarryn Fisher (The Wives) takes the unreliable narrator theme to a fascinating place as readers experience the Crouches, their teen son and extended family through Juno's damaged mind.



Nigel and Winnie are obviously at odds. As Juno overhears their late-night fights and accusations from her hidey hole, her curiosity and inner therapist begin to get the best of her. Confined to the house by the alarm system during the day, her food and drink forages expand to include snooping in drawers and on the computer. What she finds convinces her there are past wrongs that need to be set right--by any means necessary.



Fisher deftly weaves Winnie's experiences with Juno's, providing another viewpoint that keeps the puzzle pieces turning, searching for the sweet spot of the truth. The "perfect" life Winnie has cultivated can't erase the horrible thing she did that keeps her and Nigel forever bound yet separated by an emotional chasm. Unknown to Juno, Winnie's entire family is a powder keg; unknown to Winnie, Juno is working to bring the past into light. The combination makes for an explosive conclusion as the pieces fall into place. 

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About Malcolm Avenue Review

I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a nifty, oak-shaded ranch house on Malcolm Avenue, a wide-laned residential street with little through traffic, located amid the foothills of Northern California. It was on that street and in that house I learned most of my adolescent life lessons, and many grown-up ones to boot. Malcolm Avenue was "home" for more than thirty years.

It was on Malcolm Avenue, through and with my family and the other families that made up our neighborhood of characters, that I first learned about and gained an appreciation for the things I continue to love the most to this day: music, animals, photography, sports, television/movies and, of course, books.

I owe a debt of gratitude to that life on Malcolm Avenue. It gave me a sense of community and friendship, support and adventure. For better and worse, life on that street likely had the biggest impact on the person I've become. So this blog, and the things I write here, are all, at their base level, a little bit of a love letter to Malcolm Avenue.

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