A Book A Week

It’s been a while since I’ve done a Friday Flicks post here on the blog. Yes, I’m still watching plenty of movies, but I’ll admit that reviewing them on top of my weekly book coverage can be a bit much. Still, Conclave (2024) has been on my watchlist ever since I saw the trailer. When I found out it was based on a novel by Robert Harris, an author I’ve enjoyed in the past, I decided to read the book first.

I’m glad I did. The novel was a fantastic read, immersing me in the intrigue and tradition surrounding the election of a new pope. With Pope Francis's recent passing and a new conclave about to begin in real life, it felt like the perfect time to finally watch the film adaptation.

Edward Berger’s Conclave is a tense, cerebral thriller that pulls the curtain back on the secretive inner workings of the Vatican. The film immerses viewers in the centuries-old ritual of selecting a new pope following the sudden death of the Holy Father. Cardinal Lomeli (Ralph Fiennes), a man defined by his unwavering faith and moral conviction, is tasked with organizing the sacred proceedings. Though still mourning the loss of his mentor, Lomeli is bound by duty to shepherd the Church through this critical transition.

From the outset, it becomes clear that the conclave, intended to be a solemn, divinely inspired process, is just as vulnerable to earthly vices. Beneath the surface of reverence and ritual lie political machinations, long-held rivalries, and whispered ambitions. As 118 cardinals are locked inside the Vatican to cast their votes, Lomeli uncovers a shocking secret hidden in the late pope’s private correspondence—one with the potential not just to upend the outcome of the election, but to shake the very foundations of the Church itself.

Conclave is a masterful adaptation that faithfully brings its source material to life. Like the novel, the film challenges viewers to contemplate the fine line between divine duty and mortal failings. Ralph Fiennes delivers a quietly powerful performance as Cardinal Lomeli, a man torn between his spiritual obligations and the all-too-human flaws he observes within the Church’s highest ranks. Fiennes plays him with a calm intensity, grounding the film even as its stakes steadily escalate.

The supporting cast is equally impressive. John Lithgow, Stanley Tucci, and Isabella Rossellini all bring gravitas and nuance to their roles, elevating the ensemble. Director Edward Berger approaches the material with a measured, deliberate style, allowing the story’s ethical questions and political intrigue to unfold without flashy distraction. Stéphane Fontaine’s cinematography captures the grandeur and shadowed secrecy of the Vatican with stunning precision. At the same time, Academy Award-winner Volker Bertelmann’s somber score infuses the film with a haunting sense of weight and urgency.

Part political thriller, part spiritual meditation, Conclave is a layered and compelling viewing experience that lingers long after the final scene. As both a fan of the book and someone always on the lookout for smart, gripping cinema, I’m thrilled to say that this Friday Flicks pick more than lived up to expectations.

I consider myself lucky to have a strong relationship with both of my parents, though it hasn’t always been smooth. I’ve never questioned their love for me, but like most families, we’ve had our share of ups and downs. It’s easy to forget that our parents are navigating life for the first time, just like we are—learning, stumbling, and growing along the way. They have their own history, a whole life that existed before we came into the picture, and that history shaped who they are as people and as parents. Andrew Porter touches on this idea in his novel The Imagined Life, where he explores the complex dynamics between parents and children, and the process of reconciling our perceptions of our parents with the fuller, often messier truth of who they really are.

Steven Mills adored his father. What young boy wouldn't? To Steve, his dad was the best—smart, funny, and always someone he could count on. He remembers watching him hold court at their home’s infamous poolside parties, entertaining friends, colleagues, and students with sharp anecdotes about literature, film, and life. Steve would observe from afar, quietly soaking in his father's brilliance and charm.

But the man Steve idolized and the man his father truly was turned out to be two very different people. Even as a boy, he couldn't ignore the tension. He saw the way his mother flinched at his father's jokes, the growing silence between them, the slow retreat of his father into the pool house, where another figure often lurked behind the drawn curtains. When his father's quest for tenure unraveled in spectacular fashion, Steve could only watch helplessly as the world he revered collapsed around him. The parties dwindled, then stopped altogether. His father's desperate letters, pleas to former colleagues, went unanswered.

And then, in 1984, his father vanished entirely, leaving Steve and his mother to pick up the pieces of the life he had abandoned.

Now an adult facing troubles of his own—a marriage on the brink of divorce, a distant relationship with his only child—Steve is determined to uncover what became of his enigmatic father. Each revelation in the present peels back another layer of the past, revealing a portrait of a man increasingly difficult to recognize. And with every new discovery, Steve must also confront painful truths about his own life and how history may be repeating itself.

In The Imagined Life, Andrew Porter crafts a novel that nimbly explores the dichotomies between nostalgia and reality, innocence and enlightenment, love and loss. On the surface, it’s a straightforward story—a quest to uncover the fate of a missing family member—but as the layers peel back, deeper meanings emerge. I was completely invested in Steve’s journey and couldn’t help but see pieces of my own relationship with my father reflected in him. We can never fully know all the complexities that shape the people who raise us. We trust them, learn from them, even model ourselves after them, but relationships are rarely simple. Porter captures that tension beautifully, illustrating the complicated yet unbreakable bond between father and son. The Imagined Life is a daring, brilliant novel that deftly plumbs the depths of our humanity and the intricate connections we build with those closest to us.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 33)

There’s nothing more certain in the horror genre than a sequel following a smash hit. Adam Cesare’s 2020 novel Clown in a Cornfield was precisely that—a slasher steeped in tradition but energized by a sharp commentary on political polarization and generational conflict. It ended with a satisfying conclusion that could easily stand on its own. But when has that ever stopped a sequel? So, with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, I dove into Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives.

A year ago, Quinn was just trying to survive her senior year after moving to the small town of Kettle Springs. What she didn’t expect was a group of unhinged adults donning clown masks and launching a murderous crusade against the youth they blamed for their town’s decline. Quinn made it out—barely—and now she’s starting over in college, trying to move past the trauma and look toward the future.

But trauma doesn’t vanish with a change of scenery. Even hundreds of miles from Kettle Springs, Quinn can’t escape the past. She’s become a target for online conspiracy theorists who insist the massacre never happened. The facts are undeniable, but in the age of disinformation, facts don’t always win. And when a clown attacks Quinn at a college party, she realizes the nightmare isn’t over. The only way to end it is to return to where it all started. To the cornfields. To the truth. Because when reality gets drowned out by lies, people don’t just get confused—they get killed.

Sequels rarely live up to their predecessors, and Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives is no exception. What felt sharp and timely in the original now comes across as obligatory. The characters are thinner, the horror less inventive, and the political commentary that once gave the story its bite now feels more heavy-handed than insightful. Adam Cesare still delivers a brisk, bingeable read, but it largely rehashes familiar ground. It’s a decent thriller, and perhaps even more enjoyable for those who haven’t read the first, but for fans returning to the franchise, it’s hard to ignore the lessened impact of this story. Like many horror series before it, this one seems to be falling into the trap of diminishing returns. Still, a final twist offers a flicker of intrigue for what might come next. I’ll be reading, but I’m tempering my expectations.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 32)

The sheer volume of WWII fiction lining bookstore shelves often leaves me hesitant to dive in. For every standout that offers a fresh perspective, there seem to be dozens more that simply reiterate the familiar beats of the war. So when I picked up bestselling author David Baldacci’s latest novel, Strangers in Time, I was curious to see if the acclaimed crime writer could bring something new to such a well-worn genre. It also marked my first time reading Baldacci, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. What I found surprised me. Rather than a bombastic retelling of battlefield horrors, Strangers in Time is a quietly powerful, nuanced exploration of how ordinary people survived amidst the emotional and physical wreckage left by the war.

At just fourteen, Charlie Matters has already endured more heartbreak than any young boy should. Orphaned and aimless, he survives by skipping school and stealing whatever he can. He dreams of one day joining the war effort, but for now, he’s still too young. His path crosses with fifteen-year-old Molly Wakefield, who recently returned to a bomb-ravaged London after five years of being evacuated in the countryside. She, too, is alone—both of her parents are missing—and she and Charlie find comfort in their shared grief.

The two form an unlikely bond with Ignatius Oliver, a widowed bookshop owner who recognizes something of his own sorrow in the children. But each member of this makeshift family carries secrets and danger. Charlie’s thefts have put him in the crosshairs of the law, someone has been shadowing Molly, and Ignatius is haunted by a devastating truth his late wife took to her grave. As bombs fall and war tears through the city, Charlie, Molly, and Ignatius discover that trust, even in the most fragile form, might be the only thing that can keep them alive.

David Baldacci has built a career on novels filled with crime, espionage, and thrills. While Strangers in Time includes moments of all three, it’s the deeply human characters and their emotional journeys that make this novel stand out. The story is dense, occasionally feeling overstuffed and slowed by its own pacing, but the characters rise above, grounding the narrative in genuine emotion and reminding us of the personal cost of war. It’s a quietly powerful read that ultimately hits the right notes, setting it apart from the many WWII novels lining bookstore shelves. As my introduction to Baldacci’s work, Strangers in Time left me eager to explore more of what he has to offer.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 31)

Ethan Harris has a bona fide hit with The Murder Show. After years of bouncing between writing gigs, he’s finally struck gold, creating a series that blends the addictiveness of a network procedural with the depth of prestige drama. Now, with three successful seasons under his belt as showrunner, Ethan is eager to dive into season four. There’s just one problem: Hollywood is in the middle of a writers' strike, and the network has rejected his latest pitch.

Running low on inspiration—and desperate to impress the execs—Ethan returns to the last place he ever expected to find a story. Ethan goes back home.

Back in Minnesota, he reconnects with his former classmate Ro, who is now a local cop. She’s recently uncovered new evidence related to the unsolved hit-and-run that killed their friend Ricky the summer after high school. Ro believes revisiting Ricky’s case could not only help bring the killer to justice but also provide Ethan with the kind of gripping story that The Murder Show is known for. If he writes the murder into the show, the national attention might shake loose long-buried secrets.

But the deeper Ethan and Ro dig, the clearer it becomes that someone will do anything to keep the truth buried — even if it means silencing them for good.

I was completely enamored by the blend of compelling cold case mystery and behind-the-scenes drama in Matt Goldman's The Murder Show. Much like the fictional series at its center, the novel skillfully fuses elements of procedural crime with rich character development, making for a story that immediately hooked me. There’s thrills, romance, humor—basically everything I look for in a great crime read. Sure, some of the plot beats feel a bit familiar, but honestly, that’s part of the charm. The Murder Show is a fast, fun, and satisfying mystery that delivers on all fronts. 

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 30)

Rock climbing is no small feat. It demands athleticism, skill, and unwavering focus. Finn knows this well. An experienced climber, she respects the risks that come with the sport she loves. As she prepares for her latest ascent into the Australian wilderness, Finn isn’t just checking the strength of her ropes and gear—she’s also bracing herself for a different kind of challenge.

For years, Finn and her best friend Daphne were inseparable, bonded by a heartbreaking connection. Both lost their sisters to suicide. That shared grief became the foundation of a deep friendship. Time marches on, though, and now Finn is in a new chapter of her life, building a relationship with her girlfriend, Magdu.

Hoping to bridge the gap between past and present, Finn invites both women on a celebratory climb. She’s triple-checked the gear and done her best to prepare emotionally. But nothing could prepare her for what happens next.

As the book’s title ominously suggests, Magdu's rope snaps. In an instant, a joyful adventure turns into a nightmare. Stunned and grieving, Finn must reckon with the possibility that this wasn’t just a tragic accident. As doubts creep in and secrets rise to the surface, she’s forced to question everything she thought she knew about the people she loves, the life she’s built, and what really happened on that cliff.

Girl Falling sees Hayley Scrivenor explore the fragile threads of friendship, family, and the trust we place in those closest to us. The tragic accident that opens the novel is merely the spark for a series of thrilling and deeply emotional revelations. Scrivenor masterfully weaves between past and present, giving readers glimpses into Finn’s relationships with both Daphne and Magdu, even as we watch her navigate the grief and uncertainty that follows Magdu’s death. This dual timeline adds a richness that pushes the story beyond a typical mystery.

There’s also a powerful commentary on the relationship between Finn and Magdu, particularly in the way Magdu’s parents struggle to accept their daughter’s sexuality. Scrivenor touches on this with nuance, offering an important reminder that LGBTQ+ rights aren’t just about love or marriage. They’re about the right to grieve, to be acknowledged, and to be treated with dignity in every corner of life.

Ultimately, Girl Falling delivers a suspenseful mystery with real emotional heft. While the twist at the end didn’t entirely land for me, it didn’t take away from the novel’s overall impact. It’s a solid, thoughtful read that I thoroughly enjoyed. 

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 29)