Compact with Devil (Or, as I first wrote, Compost with the Devil)

AUTHOR: Bethany Maines

PUBLISHED: 2011  

GENRE: Fiction

Some books make you think.  Some make you laugh.  Some make you wonder how you are unpublished while this (bleep) idiot got a (bleep) book contract from some (bleep) (bleep) agent and (bleeeeeeeep) –

(Cue the “we seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties” placard and some soft music.)

AHEM.

Excuse me.

What I meant to say was: the book was bad.  Very, very, very bad.  And yet I persevered through it, because it is my mission to protect you all from such horrors.  Go ahead, get a tissue and wipe the tears of gratitude away.  I’ll wait. 

I will admit: media specifically aimed at women is, in general, not my thing.  But I don’t hate all of it.  I’m a big Sex in the City fan.  I… well, that’s all I can think of right now.  My point is, I went into this with an open mind, honest to God.  But there was nothing redeemable about this thing.

Nikki Lanier works for Carrie Mae, a Mary Kay clone, with the exception being that Mary Kay doesn’t have a secret counter-terrorism unit.  That I know of.*  Her latest mission is to protect budding pop star Kit Masters from the Basque separatist who escaped from jail just to kill him.  But what happens (wait for it…) when she falls in love instead?

Compact bears all the writing hallmarks of a teenage girl experiencing her first taste of creative writing freedom.  It is full of short action sentences and useless modifiers.  “She tried mightily to sleep but couldn’t.  She finally fell asleep. When she woke up, she shook her tingling arm.  She turned on the TV.”  Over and over and over.  Actually, the fight sequences could probably work quite well, if someone were trying to block it for a movie.  “Now, Nikki, you put your arm up.  Now hit him in the nose.  He is going to fall.  You step over him.”  Everyone chortles, or gasps, or reasons, and nobody just says anything.  Maines has apparently not heard of a little thing called a transition.  The book jumps from scene to scene and place to place, hoping that the movement will keep you from questioning, wait a minute, how did she start that motorcycle with no keys?

According to reviews, Compact is a spoof.  But it flies right past that station, ending up somewhere in between spoof and camp.  And everyone knows the first rule of camp: if you are going to do camp, you have to commit.  It’s zero or John Waters, people, and if you waver in your conviction you are just going to end up embarrassing yourself.   To end up halfway between the two, well, that’s just sad. 

She also seems to think that having her characters speak exactly as they would in real life, complete with background acknowledgements and such, is a good idea.  Look!  They talk just like you! Except she’s a spy!  Her running jokes – why doesn’t anybody say goodbye when they hang up the phone?  Haha! – are inane.  Maines obviously thinks she is being witty beyond belief, which is infuriating.  You’re supposed to let the reader decide what they think is funny or witty or good.

So.  Long story short (much as I wish this book had been): Compact with the Devil = BAD. 

LENGTH: 384 pages

MAINSTREAM OR NOT: Yes.

SO, SHOULD I READ IT OR NOT?: NO.  Please do not encourage this type of behavior! 

*My sister-in-law Mae is a Mary Kay consultant, so I asked her if Mary Kay did indeed have a counter-terrorism unit.  She told me not that she knew of, but maybe she’d find out when she became a director.  And then these women in black suits knocked at the door and whisked her away.  Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from her since then…