Our last book club pick was my sister's, and she chose Jesse Q. Sutanto's Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers. Before you ask, "Vera Wong? Isn't that a little close to Vera Wang?", yes, yes it is. Because the Vera in this semi-cozy mystery calls her teashop Vera Wang's World-Famous Teahouse in hopes that the fashion designer's name will lure customers. Which should give you an idea of just the kind of kooky, kickass character we're dealing with. Indeed, not-so-little-old-lady (she's only sixty!) Vera is never the same after she finds a dead body in her teashop. But not because she's traumatized. Oh, no. Because she's intent on finding the killer, much to the dismay of the police and the four suspects she's cunningly identified. Still, no one says no to Vera, whether she's spearheading a crime investigation or pushing yet another helping of cod with black fungus to ward off constipation (that's not me being funny but an example straight from the book).
Nevertheless, the four suspects -- Julia, Oliver, Riki, and Sana -- can't help but admit that Vera has improved their lives. Because even as she grills them about their whereabouts on that fateful night, she pushes them to move past their personal fears and take the world by the fish balls. To say she becomes loveable may be going too far -- she's too tough for such a soft word -- but she does emerge as wise and even empathetic, seeing each of her new friends clearly enough to administer the tough love they need.
Now, in terms of the actual mystery, I found it pretty compelling. But my sister figured it out, and my mom mostly figured it out. Needless to say, I didn't figure it out at all. My mom says this is because I'm "a leisurely reader who likes to be surprised." Which sounds like a nice way of saying that I lack the cognitive skills to decipher whodunit. Then again, my mom hopped online to look up the logistics of what went down plot-wise, which to me sounded just plain exhausting. So I guess I do like reading to be restful, going along for the fictional ride.
Finally, this has little to do with what I just said, but here's my favorite quote from the book:
"It's her own fault. She'd been so eager to make a name for herself. This is the problem with creative people; their self-image is divided into two parts -- one thinks that they're a genius who will one day create a masterpiece of such breathtaking brilliance that it will still be discussed with reverence hundreds of years later; the other part thinks they are trash raccoons rooting around in the dark and coming up with nothing but more trash. There is no in-between. It's either "super genius" or "trash raccoon," and somehow these parts coexist within the head of one very tortured artist." (165-166)
I don't think there's a creative person alive who doesn't relate to this.
Which is, now that I think of it, one of the reasons I need so much rest. 📘😏