(Kirkus, starred)

A less-than-grief-stricken widow follows in her novelist husband’s bestselling footsteps but finds that someone knows more about her than is safe—for either of them.

Anna Williams-Bonner has no burning literary vocation, and she certainly has no need to bury herself in work to recover from her spouse’s tragic supposed suicide. But an idle remark while she’s on the road promoting Jacob Finch Bonner’s posthumously published final work prompts her powerhouse agent—the one she inherited along with Jacob’s royalty checks—to get her into an artists’ colony; Anna, whose years working on a Seattle radio show prepping a lazy boss for author interviews have given her zero respect for the literary world, figures it can’t be all that hard to produce autobiographical fiction exploiting her alleged bereavement. Readers of The Plot (2021) already know that Anna is not at all what she seems, and this successor volume’s deliciously nasty narration (third-person, but from Anna’s point of view) creepily depicts the inner life of a perennially aggrieved, viciously vindictive, and alarming resourceful sociopath. At a signing for her novel, a Post-it note stuck inside one copy of the book warns Anna that someone knows about the past she has worked assiduously to bury. Tracking down this threat to her new prosperity and status requires Anna to revisit that past, and as she does readers learn in grim detail about the long trail of misdeeds she’s left behind her. One wonderfully ironic plot twist plays on the publishing world’s infamous slush piles, unsolicited manuscripts that molder unread for years in editorial offices; another reveals a rare misstep by Anna. A slew of barbed characterizations—there are no good guys here—add to the mean-spirited fun. The conclusion suggests that Korelitz may decide to emulate Patricia Highsmith and keep her antisocial protagonist around for more enjoyably amoral outings.

Wicked entertainment.