Look. We need to talk about Galli. Put aside the fact her earlier books are basically lesbian popcorn, okay? Look at this book, and I mean genuinely look at this book.
This book is ghastly, because the only two characters inside it - especially the thinly veiled author-insert one - have to be smarter than everyone else in the room.
We’ve seen it before, but never this bad, and we’ve given Galli a pass because… hey, popcorn is supposed to be bad for you. But this book delights in it, wallows in it, and ultimately suffers from it. There are only two real characters in this book. Two. Everyone else is a punching bag, or a cardboard figure you put in your shower to freak out your roommates.
In Winter Calling, Galli is Tru: a middle manager who spends a good portion of the book thinking about all the ways her co-workers are lazy, entitled, and incompetent. This takes on a nasty generational tone in places - a kind of “Millennials, am I right?” sourness which suggests firstly that Galli is not a millennial, and secondly that possibly has never met one. I digress, however. To Tru, everyone in the resort where she works is venial, vapid, and stupid - all except for Renske, the love interest.
This book commits the sin of contempt; contempt for supposedly less intelligent people, contempt for ordinary people, contempt for people who disagree. Over and over, for the entire length of the novel. What you see is what you get.
As another reviewer noted, Galli’s business instincts are, to put it charitably, hit-and-miss. Let’s just say that a business of that type (seasonal resort) would be complex. And some of the author’s diatribes are interesting in an academic way - the burden of working holidays falling to workers without children for instance was a good point (even if its execution was done in a way which implied somehow workers with families were selfish). But the evident flaws in Galli’s knowledge of the governance of medium-sized businesses, coupled to topics such as the above which are controversial, means the delivery grates across the nerves; “it’s all so simple,” Tru (and Renske) say. “My razor-sharp, incisive logic could fix this all. I am morally totally correct, and stupidity is the only reason all my ideas aren’t widely accepted.”
This kind of wish-fulfillment is not in and of itself a problem. But putting aside the morality of it for a second, what happens when the reader just disagrees? This forms the crux of a structural problem, in which the writing itself holds the potential to alienates a wide range of otherwise perfectly happy readers. Again, this is not in and of itself a problem, right? Books aren't meant to be read by everyone. There is a fierce “take it or leave it” quality to Galli, which is admirable in its own way. But when your defence for a bunch of moral points you’ve plonked in your book boils down to “I’m an asshole and you can fuck off” then the odds of the author listening to reasonable criticism seem lower.
Basically what I am saying is that her characters are nasty. That’s gone from being the occasional snide thought to being the central theme of her works. But why? Her earlier books were filled with characters who acknowledged the kindnesses of those around them; systems of family, friends, and wider communities that helped and supported one another. Even the "bad guys" were understandable and sympathetic - the cops in “Life Rewired” for instance, who were clearly trying to do the right thing (stop crime) even as it led them down the path of harassing an innocent woman. They weren’t bad or stupid people - they were good people who were inexperienced, afraid of failure, and fixated on stereotypes. Their actions made them the antagonist, not their inherent qualities. No such respect is given to the antagonists in Winter’s Calling - they are distorted caricatures, dumb to the point where Tru/Galli can look Very Smart Indeed.
Good things; and there are good things. She’s pretty funny, right? There is this wry undercurrent to her work. As I said before, in her best writing, this is used to great effect - one of her two lovebirds has a voice which holds a cynicism which makes sense in the context of that person’s background, and Galli then contrasts it with the gentler approach of her partner. Renske didn’t get enough screen time, and what we saw from her PoV was more of the same, but when we were looking at her from the outside it was a relief for someone to be treated with respect.
But that’s about the only good thing. There are clearly a lot of people who disagree with me, and I respect that (there were a lot of Doctor Who fans who LOVED Stephen Moffet) but it’s not my cup of tea.
Two stars.