‘Famous Last Words' Is a Frustrating Disappointment

Epoch Times

04-05-2025

The basic idea of 'Famous Last Words' had me hooked from the beginning. It's one of those plots that works amazingly well as an elevator pitch; something that you can describe to a publisher in the time it takes to ride an elevator to their floor.
Imagine you're a new mother. You wake up on the morning of your first day back to work after maternity leave. Strangely, your husband isn't at home. There's a note on the table, but it's an awkward phrasing and unlike him. You make it to work, and things are going well until a news bulletin comes on the television.
There's a hostage situation downtown. Right in your husband's office. Terror floods you. Then, the screen shows footage of the drama. Your husband isn't one of the hostages—he's the one holding the gun.
If I were the publisher in that elevator, you bet I would be asking to hear more. Notice that I didn't say I'd sign them to a deal right away because, as the saying goes, the devil's in the details. A promising premise is just that, a beginning. You have to be able to follow through, which this book—maddeningly—does not.
Worst First Day Back at Work
What annoyed me most about 'Famous Last Words' was that this was, indeed, a great scenario with highly likable characters you can root for.
Camille 'Cam' Deschamps has a great life as a loving wife, new mother, and successful literary agent. Book deals are coming in, new manuscripts are looking very promising, and she has (supposedly) a deep, loving, trusting relationship with her writer husband, Luke.
As mentioned, he's uncharacteristically AWOL on the very morning baby Polly will be at the nursery for the first time. Cam has vague memories of him being up very early, maybe a kiss on the cheek while she's still asleep. Plus, he's not responding to texts or calls, which is also out of character and worrying.
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As the drama begins to ramp up, Cam begins frantically reviewing the events of the last few weeks and even their entire lifetime together. To her, this is utterly unthinkable, an insane situation from out of the blue. Were there clues she missed? Little signs about why her mild-mannered, perpetually unflustered husband might be a secret terrorist or master criminal?
The POV soon switches between Cam and one of the London Metropolitan Police's top crisis negotiators Niall Thompson, who has been assigned to handle the crisis. Niall's passion for his career has lately been affecting his marriage and riddling him with doubts about his ability to get the job done. And when things go spectacularly sideways, no one is left with any proper answers about what happened or who Luke Deschamps really was in the first place.
Thriller Rules
High-stakes thrillers are big in the storytelling world. You can probably think of a dozen films or books off the top of your head that stay with you years after you watched or read them. And I'll bet one of the most significant factors in your enjoyment was trying to figure out the mystery of the caper, heist, assassination, or what have you.
But McAllister pours almost all of her efforts here into emphasizing each character's emotional inner turmoil to the detriment of everything else. Yes, anyone might have some internal dialogue about their doubts and insecurities; we all have this capacity, even at the best of times.
Niall—and remember, this is the Met's top police negotiator—fixates and consistently ruminates on his insecurities during the crisis. It's a choice that greatly diminishes him as a realistic and competent character and hobbles the overall tension.
Worse still, Niall breaks down in tears after realizing he's likely made a terrible mistake while the situation is still unfolding. 'Niall's voice is too thick to speak back, lined with his tears and sadness.' Frankly, that just screams that he's very poorly matched to his job and likely should never have been hired in the first place.
Cam, too, spends an inordinate amount of time second-guessing herself, waxing poetic about idyllic times in the past that are forever lost, and generally not getting to the point of the matter.
Evidence Over Emotions, Please
While all this hand-wringing is going on, important situational details are often left out. When the Met police storm the building, the scene inside the warehouse is woefully underdescribed, and the reader has few clues about how the raid went so wrong—both during and in the aftermath.
In a later scene, Niall recalls an interrogation of one of the released hostages, and the exchange is filled almost entirely with their personal impressions of events instead of the cold details of what actually happened. The witness tells us her guesses about motivations, how she felt about the events personally, and her moral judgments about her actions and the others involved. None of this is essential information if you're trying to solve the mystery.
Finally, when some of the vital details of the hostage situation come to light, they contain preposterous moments (e.g., leaving firearms lying around for no logical reason) and evidence that should've sent up red flags to even the most inept investigator.
Details matter, especially if you're crafting an edge-of-your-seat thriller. If they're not there, you might end up with a snooze-at-the-back-of-your-chair disappointment.
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