
Book Review: Quirky private eye tracks a couple more killers in Stephen King's ‘Never Flinch'
Stephen King's favorite private investigator returns in 'Never Flinch,' the sixth novel by King featuring Holly Gibney, who readers first met in the Bill Hodges trilogy ('Mr. Mercedes,' 'Finders Keepers,' 'End of Watch') and who then helped solved the murders at the heart of 'The Outsider' and 'Holly.'
In 'Never Flinch,' Holly cracks two more cases, one as the lead security escort for a polarizing author touring the nation to talk about women's reproductive freedom, and the other back home in Ohio, as a serial killer preys on jurors following a miscarriage of justice.
The biggest connection between the two cases is classic King — the killers have dead Daddy issues. We meet them both relatively early in the plot and spend time inside their heads, though the true identity of one of them is a mystery until closer to the end. One of the murderers supplies the novel's title, recalling how his abusive and overbearing father berated him to 'push through to the bitter end. No flinching, no turning away.'
Even with two killers talking to themselves, Holly is still the star of the book. She continues to 'attract weirdos the way a magnet attracts iron filings,' is how Holly's friend Barbara puts it. More often than not, Holly's obsessive compulsive disorder helps her 'think around corners,' as one of the story's detectives says.
King also brings back Barbara's brother, Jerome, and introduces some dynamic new characters, including Sista Bessie ('She's not the Beatles, but she's a big deal'), a soul singer whose comeback concert serves as the nexus for the convergence of the novel's two storylines. When they do, readers will enjoy the very Kingly ending. It's not quite the pigs' blood from 'Carrie,' but it's satisfying.
The pages turn very quickly in the final third of the book as all the characters arrive back in Dayton, Ohio ('the second mistake on the lake'), where we first met Holly, and where psychopath Brady Hartsfield began his killing spree in 'Mr. Mercedes.' Will the Mingo Auditorium be the site of another massacre or will Holly and her amateur detectives save the day again?
___
AP book reviews:
https://apnews.com/hub/book-reviews
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


USA Today
32 minutes ago
- USA Today
Barbara Nicklaus hailed as 'angel of Muirfield Village' at Memorial honoree ceremony
Barbara Nicklaus hailed as 'angel of Muirfield Village' at Memorial honoree ceremony DUBLIN, Ohio — The First Lady of Golf got an earful from the Golden Bear, and the musical serenade brought the house down at the Barbara Nicklaus honoree ceremony at Muirfield Village. After several members of the Memorial Tournament Captains Club, including Jack Nicklaus II, spoke glowingly of Barbara, and before the honoree addressed the adoring crowd, a video was shown of Jack Nicklaus singing the Johnny Mathis song 'I married an angel.' 'You didn't know I was a singer, did you?' Nicklaus joked as the crowd of about 1,000 in stands behind the practice range roared. Barbara thanked her husband – 'You're the best thing to ever happen to me' – and pointed out that Jack allowed her to be her own person. Jack then stepped to the lectern and waxed poetic about his wife of almost 64 years, saying that 'for 65 years she's been my conscience. … She's a special lady.' Barbara and Jack, both 85, met their freshman year at Ohio State, married in 1960 and moved to Florida in 1966. She is from Clintonville. He is from Upper Arlington. Jack shared several stories about his wife, including how she has always been quite the prankster. One of her favorite moves was dropping rubber insects into friends' drinks. She once put rubber ants into Tom Watson's glass of ice tea. Barbara kept her 'Phantom' identity under close wraps, but could not hide her generosity and sweet spirit. 'She never met a stranger,' Jack said, wiping away tears. Jack II called his mother 'a reluctant honoree' who is 'most comfortable when those around her shine.' Charlie Mecham, a longtime friend of the Nicklauses, said, 'If Jack is the heart (of the Memorial Tournament), Barbara is the soul.' Barbara Nicklaus is known for her charitable work, most notably Nationwide Children's Hospital and the Nicklaus Children's Hospital in Florida. After former Dispatch golf writer Bob Baptist was honored with the Memorial Golf Journalism Award, PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan mentioned how Barbara Nicklaus has been the driving force behind the Memorial Tournament having donated $41 million back to Nationwide Children's Hospital through the years. 'You know the water cooler talk about who is the greatest of all time, well I'm in the camp that says Barbara is in the conversation,' Monahan said. Sports columnist Rob Oller can be reached at roller@ and on at@rollerCD. Read his columns from theBuckeyes' national championship season in "Scarlet Reign," a hardcover coffee-table collector's book from The Dispatch. Details at


San Francisco Chronicle
an hour ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
‘And Just Like That…' finds its voice as season 3 embraces queerness, maturity — and messy truth
PARIS (AP) — 'She's messy. It can be messy. But it's real.' So says Cynthia Nixon — not just of Miranda Hobbes, the character she's embodied across almost three decades, but of the show itself. 'And Just Like That...,' HBO's 'Sex and the City' revival, has come into its own in season three: less preoccupied with pleasing everyone, and more interested in telling the truth. Truth, in this case, looks like complexity. Women in their fifties with evolving identities. Not frozen in time, but changing, reckoning, reliving. Queerness that's joyful but not polished. Grief without melodrama. A pirate shirt with a bleach hole that somehow becomes a talisman of power. At its glittering European premiere this week, Nixon and costar Sarah Jessica Parker, flanked by Kristin Davis and Sarita Choudhury, spoke candidly with The Associated Press about how the show has evolved into something deeper, rawer, and more reflective of who they are now. A voice returns Season three marks the return of Carrie Bradshaw's iconic internal monologue — the voiceover that once defined 'Sex and the City' and gave millions of women permission to narrate their lives. That rhythmic intimacy is back, and not by accident. 'We've always loved the voiceover,' Parker said. 'It's a rhythm — it's part of the DNA.' For Parker, it mirrors Carrie's emotional clarity. The character who once floated through Manhattan chasing shoes and column deadlines is now grounded in reinvention, loss, and cautious hope. She's grown up and she's no longer hiding it. 'She doesn't burst into tears or stomp out of the room anymore,' Parker said. 'She asks smart, patient questions. That's not effort — that's just her nature now.' 'People seem surprised that she is mature,' Parker added. 'But that's just basic developmental stuff — hopefully, simply by living, we get better at things. It's not surprising. It's just real.' Warts and all Miranda's arc, which now includes a late-in-life queer awakening, may be the show's most radical contribution to television. For Nixon, it was vital that this journey didn't feel sanitized. 'There's never a 'too late' moment. Miranda comes to queerness at 55. That doesn't mean everything that came before was wrong. It just means this is her now. And it's messy. It can be messy. But it's real.' That embrace of imperfection is central to Nixon's philosophy of storytelling, especially on television, where long-running characters become part of the cultural furniture. 'Television puts someone in your living room, week after week. They're imperfect, they make you laugh, and eventually you say, 'I know that person. They're my friend.' That's more powerful than one mythic, perfect film. That's where the change happens.' That change includes representation. Nixon recalled how earlier generations of queer characters were forced to be flawless to justify their presence. 'There was a time when gay people on screen had to be saints or martyrs,' she said. 'Now, we can be characters like Miranda — who've had rich, fulfilling heterosexual lives and now stumble upon queerness, and not in a tidy way. There's collateral damage. That's important.' The power of long form That depth, Nixon said, comes not just from character, but from the format. Unlike film, which requires resolution in two hours, television lets people grow — and falter — in real time. 'On long-running shows, if the writers are smart, they start to weave in the actor,' Nixon said. 'When I started, Miranda and I were very different. But now we've grown closer. We're almost the same person — in temperament, in values.' That closeness is reflected in the material. Season three narrows its scope, pulling focus back to the emotional cores of Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte. Several side characters are gone, including Che Diaz, and what remains is a cleaner, more character-driven story. 'I think one of the great things about our show is we show women in their 50s whose lives are very dramatic and dynamic,' Nixon said. 'You get to this age and there's a lot going on — if you choose to keep moving forward.' Friends, friction, and freedom Kristin Davis, who plays Charlotte, noted that those life shifts come fast and often overlap. 'She really starts to unravel,' Davis said. 'But the joy is her friends are there.' Sarita Choudhury, who plays real estate powerhouse Seema, echoed that sense of late-blooming autonomy. 'She's feeling that, if you have your own business, your own apartment, your own way, you get to say what you want,' Choudhury said. 'There's power in that.' It's a subtle rebuke to the long-held media narrative that midlife is a decline. In 'And Just Like That...", it's the opposite. Not just fashion — declaration Fashion, as ever, is present — but now it feels more personal than aspirational. Parker described insisting on wearing a ripped vintage Vivienne Westwood shirt with a bleach hole in a key scene. 'I didn't care,' she said. 'It had to be in an important scene. It meant something.' Even the show's iconic heels, still clacking through New York's brownstone-lined streets, feel louder this season. They're not just accessories. They're declarations. And yes, Carrie is writing again, though not her usual musings. A 'historical romance' project, mentioned only briefly on screen so far, hints at the show's comfort with poking fun at itself and its heroine's occasionally pretentious flair. If early reviews are right, it might be one of the season's most enjoyably ludicrous storylines. 'And Just Like That...' is a show that's learned to walk — loudly — into its next chapter. It may be messy. But it's real.


Hamilton Spectator
an hour ago
- Hamilton Spectator
‘And Just Like That…' finds its voice as season 3 embraces queerness, maturity
PARIS (AP) — 'She's messy. It can be messy. But it's real.' So says Cynthia Nixon — not just of Miranda Hobbes, the character she's embodied across almost three decades, but of the show itself. 'And Just Like That...,' HBO's 'Sex and the City' revival, has come into its own in season three: less preoccupied with pleasing everyone, and more interested in telling the truth. Truth, in this case, looks like complexity. Women in their fifties with evolving identities. Not frozen in time, but changing, reckoning, reliving. Queerness that's joyful but not polished. Grief without melodrama. A pirate shirt with a bleach hole that somehow becomes a talisman of power. At its glittering European premiere this week, Nixon and costar Sarah Jessica Parker, flanked by Kristin Davis and Sarita Choudhury, spoke candidly with The Associated Press about how the show has evolved into something deeper, rawer, and more reflective of who they are now. A voice returns Season three marks the return of Carrie Bradshaw's iconic internal monologue — the voiceover that once defined 'Sex and the City' and gave millions of women permission to narrate their lives. That rhythmic intimacy is back, and not by accident. 'We've always loved the voiceover,' Parker said. 'It's a rhythm — it's part of the DNA.' For Parker, it mirrors Carrie's emotional clarity. The character who once floated through Manhattan chasing shoes and column deadlines is now grounded in reinvention, loss, and cautious hope. She's grown up and she's no longer hiding it. 'She doesn't burst into tears or stomp out of the room anymore,' Parker said. 'She asks smart, patient questions. That's not effort — that's just her nature now.' 'People seem surprised that she is mature,' Parker added. 'But that's just basic developmental stuff — hopefully, simply by living, we get better at things. It's not surprising. It's just real.' Warts and all Miranda's arc, which now includes a late-in-life queer awakening, may be the show's most radical contribution to television. For Nixon, it was vital that this journey didn't feel sanitized. 'There's never a 'too late' moment. Miranda comes to queerness at 55. That doesn't mean everything that came before was wrong. It just means this is her now. And it's messy. It can be messy. But it's real.' That embrace of imperfection is central to Nixon's philosophy of storytelling, especially on television, where long-running characters become part of the cultural furniture. 'Television puts someone in your living room, week after week. They're imperfect, they make you laugh, and eventually you say, 'I know that person. They're my friend.' That's more powerful than one mythic, perfect film. That's where the change happens.' That change includes representation. Nixon recalled how earlier generations of queer characters were forced to be flawless to justify their presence. 'There was a time when gay people on screen had to be saints or martyrs,' she said. 'Now, we can be characters like Miranda — who've had rich, fulfilling heterosexual lives and now stumble upon queerness, and not in a tidy way. There's collateral damage. That's important.' The power of long form That depth, Nixon said, comes not just from character, but from the format. Unlike film, which requires resolution in two hours, television lets people grow — and falter — in real time. 'On long-running shows, if the writers are smart, they start to weave in the actor,' Nixon said. 'When I started, Miranda and I were very different. But now we've grown closer. We're almost the same person — in temperament, in values.' That closeness is reflected in the material. Season three narrows its scope, pulling focus back to the emotional cores of Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte. Several side characters are gone, including Che Diaz, and what remains is a cleaner, more character-driven story. 'I think one of the great things about our show is we show women in their 50s whose lives are very dramatic and dynamic,' Nixon said. 'You get to this age and there's a lot going on — if you choose to keep moving forward.' Friends, friction, and freedom Kristin Davis, who plays Charlotte, noted that those life shifts come fast and often overlap. 'She really starts to unravel,' Davis said. 'But the joy is her friends are there.' Sarita Choudhury, who plays real estate powerhouse Seema, echoed that sense of late-blooming autonomy. 'She's feeling that, if you have your own business, your own apartment, your own way, you get to say what you want,' Choudhury said. 'There's power in that.' It's a subtle rebuke to the long-held media narrative that midlife is a decline. In 'And Just Like That...', it's the opposite. Not just fashion — declaration Fashion, as ever, is present — but now it feels more personal than aspirational. Parker described insisting on wearing a ripped vintage Vivienne Westwood shirt with a bleach hole in a key scene. 'I didn't care,' she said. 'It had to be in an important scene. It meant something.' Even the show's iconic heels, still clacking through New York's brownstone-lined streets, feel louder this season. They're not just accessories. They're declarations. And yes, Carrie is writing again, though not her usual musings. A 'historical romance' project, mentioned only briefly on screen so far, hints at the show's comfort with poking fun at itself and its heroine's occasionally pretentious flair. If early reviews are right, it might be one of the season's most enjoyably ludicrous storylines. 'And Just Like That...' is a show that's learned to walk — loudly — into its next chapter. It may be messy. But it's real. 'You're better today than you were ten years ago,' Parker said. 'That's not just Carrie — that's everyone.' ___ Season three of 'And Just Like That…' premiered on Thursday on HBO Max