This is one book I picked up after seeing the tremendous hype around it. It was touted as the thriller of the year, so my expectations were naturally quite high when I started reading it.
Count My Lies by Sophie Stava leans heavily on recycled themes and familiar psychological-thriller tropes. The setup itself feels predictable—a maid brought in to babysit for a seemingly happy, well-off family, where both the outsider and the family members are hiding secrets. While this premise has worked well in other thrillers, here it adds little that feels fresh or inventive.
The narrative promises tension, but the payoff is disappointing. The climax feels contrived and illogical, as if the twists were forced rather than organically earned. Characters like Jay, Violet, and Caitlin are poorly etched out, lacking depth or believable motivation. As a result, it becomes difficult to invest emotionally in their choices or outcomes.
The writing style is plain and functional, which further weakens the impact. Instead of heightening suspense or psychological complexity, it flattens the emotional stakes. When the story finally reaches its conclusion, the climax lands with little force, leaving no lasting impression.
Overall, Count My Lies struggles to rise above the genre clichés it relies on, and despite its promising premise, it fails to deliver the tension, logic, or character depth expected from a compelling psychological thriller.
-nikhi
menon
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