There are aspects of this prequel that deserve four stars for intriguing twists and plot development, but I've always suffered a bit of trepidation regarding novels developed around existing podcasts. It isn't so much that the books are poorly written, or the podcasts themselves are thin gruel to wrap a book around. Rather, the books often gain undue popularity because of the popularity of the podcasts. No better case can be made than It Devours! by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, which bears some odd similarities to the Limetown book. In the former, tied to the "Welcome to Night Vale" podcast, the description of a wildly surreal and unpredictable town is hobbled by character development that is often downright corny. Nevertheless, It Devours! became a runaway best seller. Limetown is the opposite in some respects. It takes some unusual twists in telling the backstories of some characters in the podcast, but makes some hiccups in logic in getting from here to there.
Make no mistake, if you are a fan of the "American Public Radio reporter Lia Haddock" (played in the podcast by Annie-Sage Whitehurst), you will love this book. The novel takes us back to Haddock's birth to an unusual couple, and it alternates chapters of her story with those of her uncle Emile, who was even more unusual, at least in terms of his neurological (and maybe parapsychological) abilities. The problem is that this kind of dual-track narrative, taking place in different decades, has been used before in horror and sci-fi novels, often with a more deft hand. Many of the plot tricks in Limetown similarly have been used before, often in days long before podcasts.
Even with some knowledge of the podcast, it's a little hard to track the geographical interplay between Lawrence, Kansas, the hometown of Lia Haddock, and the hill country surrounding Sparta, Tenn., where the mysterious Limetown was located. (Since my 2018 family reunion took place in the area outside Sparta, very close to where Limetown supposedly existed, I had every reason for playing GPS games here, yet even I got confused.) Toto, the reader might say, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas any more - but are we in Tennessee, Oregon, or Colorado? It's often not that clear. The fictitious locations often seem corny, as well. Archer Park, Colorado and its Eldridge Hotel bear too much similarity to Estes Park's Stanley Hotel. Like the podcast itself, the novel often aims for melodrama that could have used a more subtle hand.
Limetown is a fun prequel sort of read, and worth the effort for those hooked by the podcast. But when podcast-related novels become best sellers, one must take the furor with a grain of salt. There will no doubt be printed novel tie-ins to many Netflix/Amazon Prime TV series or independent podcasts in the future. Many will be great fun for late-night scary reads, but they won't always be great literature. If the novel of Limetown had slightly better editing, though, it might well have deserved four stars.