B.C.-based thriller competent, predictable

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This article was published 29/08/2015 (3972 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Victoria-based Robert J. Wiersema’s fifth book, Black Feathers, is a by-the-numbers thriller with an intriguing premise mixed with a few underdeveloped supernatural elements.

After a foray into non-fiction with Walk Like a Man, a mix of biography and memoir centred on Bruce Springsteen’s music, Wiersema returns to the kind of horror-tinged tale that featured in previous bestsellers Before I Wake and Bedtime Story.

Black Feathers’ protagonist is Cassie Weathers, a 16-year-old runaway new to the streets of Victoria. Cassie is plagued by night terrors and vivid dreams that seem to be able to control her body; she flees her suburban home life because she fears she’s a threat to those she loves.

In Victoria she meets another homeless girl, Skylark, who introduces her to a community of people living on the streets whose leader is the predictably enigmatic Brother Paul. Homelessness is a growing problem in Victoria at the time (the novel is set in 1997), and the community is often confronted and chased off by police. There’s also an active serial killer murdering prostitutes; living on the street is perilous. Cassie’s night terrors don’t abate and she soon flees the community for fear of harming her new friends.

Wiersema begins to pose interesting questions once Cassie’s dreams start to take hold of the narrative. Cassie has a hard time discerning which experiences are real and which are dreamed. This is when Black Feathers is most rewarding; unfortunately, it comes to little consequence. The door is opened for an interesting, subversive exploration of reality, but it’s ultimately shut down without being explored.

Most of the novel is told from Cassie’s point of view but there are a few others, such as the heart-of-gold good cop, Const. Harrison, and the villainous force of evil that hunts Cassie through the streets. Journal entries, meanwhile, remark on the nature of “the darkness.” The villain’s identity is kept secret until the end, but the reveal’s hardly a surprise (most will figure it out by reading the jacket).

At one point, Const. Harrison makes a crack about the show Law & Order, but the story would likely fit quite well as an episode of a derivative cop show. It hits all the beats of the formula without challenging conventions. This is the single biggest issue: Black Feathers plays it safe and predictable.

Journal entries about the nature of light and dark are interesting at first, but soon become predictable. Initially they hint at an overarching mythology or supernatural framework — Cassie’s dreams and the power of the darkness may share a link — but this idea is abandoned by the novel’s end. The villain is evil for evil’s sake, and might as well be twirling his mustache while overlooking the result of his deeds.

Const. Harrison is the perfect foil, a one-dimensional good guy whose blinding altruism works to contrive a ludicrous rationale for him to be unarmed during the novel’s final showdown. To top it off, an epilogue wraps everything into a neat, unsatisfying bow, much like the last few minutes of an episode of Law & Order.

Wiersema is a good writer; his style is flowing and easy to read. Though the length here is longer than need be, the story pulls the reader through with few hiccups. Black Feathers is a competent, largely unremarkable thriller.

Keith Cadieux is a Winnipeg writer.