Lisa Lutz, known for her Spellman Files comedic mysteries,
embarked on a co-writing adventure with ex-romantic partner,
David Hayward. The resulting novel, HEADS YOU LOSE, is quite
good, but the snarky and continuous exchange between the two
authors sets this book above the pack. Issues, obviously not
forgotten, from their dating days rear their heads, so it's
best the two authors weren't in the same room as that might
have caused a real murder. The authors alternate chapters
with no outline except for what's on the page, and notes to
each other at the end of each chapter. Explanatory footnotes
are at the back which are almost as amusing as the snarky
discourse. Lutz accuses Hayward's writing (he's a poet) of
being too erudite. He retaliates with a chapter in large
print with a conversation that closely mimics a first grade
Dick and Jane text. And, on top of all that, there's a
mystery novel to enjoy.
Paul and Lacey, a brother and sister, live near a very small
northern California town. Paul supports the two by growing
and selling marijuana, so when a headless body turns up on
their property, they can hardly call the police. The two
move the body, but it reappears a couple days later, and
that's when Lacey decides she has to get to the bottom of
the murder and turns investigator. Paul investigates too,
but in a more methodical way rather than Lacey's careening
through town, leaving even more mayhem in her wake. The
battle between the two authors results in a lot of deaths
and unusual resurrections and intriguing characteristics
such as a stripper with a genius IQ.
The mystery itself has a satisfying conclusion with few
threads left unraveled, but there's room for more should
Lutz and Hayward opt to write a sequel. Overall, I enjoyed
HEADS YOU LOSE and plan to search out the Spellman books,
but honestly, I looked forward to the chapter-ending
discourse just a bit more than the chapters themselves.
Meet Paul and Lacey Hansen: orphaned, pot-growing,
twentysomething siblings eking out a living in rural
northern California. When a headless corpse appears on their
property, they can’t exactly dial 911, so they move the body
and wait for the police to find it. Instead, the corpse
reappears,
a few days riper—and this time Lacey recognizes it as her
ex-fiancé . . . and an amateur sleuth is born. Make that two.
When collaborators Lutz and Hayward (former romantic partners)
start to disagree about how the story should unfold, the
body count rises, victims and suspects alike develop wildly
inconsistent
characteristics (meet Brandy Chester, the stripper with the
Mensa IQ), and our defective detectives wind up putting
both their lives at risk. Think Adaptation meets Weeds. Will
the authors solve the mystery without killing each other first?
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