I would not sleep a wink in Gillian Flynn’s house.

That was already the case after reading “Gone Girl” last year, but was further solidified with “Dark Places.”

The story of Libby Day, a survivor of the night in which her mother and two sisters were killed, contains the same unsettling vibes, befuddling revelations and general creepiness at times as “Gone Girl” (though not enough to make it a better book).

Flynn acknowledges in her note at the end of the book that perhaps what goes through her head is not quite the normal inner monologue.  She thanks her husband, saying, “What do I say to a man who knows how I think and still sleeps next to me with the lights off?”

Has anyone checked on the husband in a while?  Are we sure he’s okay?

As for the story, the normal experience with thrillers held true with this one with me flagging very little because I was so engrossed in what was happening.

At one point, Libby describes going to first meet with Lyle, a super fan of her family’s murders who later brings her to a club where other murder super fans gather.

“He stood up, pulled out one of the folding chairs, looked like he regretted the chivalry, and sat back down.  ‘Your hair’s blond.'”
“‘Yup,’ I said.  I hate people who start conversations with facts — what are you supposed to do with that?”

Does this happen to you?  I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve met someone who’s first words were, “You’re tall.”  I fight back the urge to act shocked and confused, as if they were revealing something I wasn’t actually aware of, but usually go with the Libby-like, “I know.”

After working together on uncovering new details about the murders, for which her brother is in prison, Libby goes on a surprise trip to Oklahoma to visit her father.  Lyle tries to check in often while she’s gone, getting only her answering machine.

“Lyle had left nine messages in the days I’d gone Oklahoma-incommunicado…”

We need “Oklahoma-incommunicado” to become a mainstream saying.

“Are you bringing your phone to dinner?”
“Nah, gonna go Oklahoma-incommunicado.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the game got delayed?”
“Sorry, I was Oklahoma-incommunicado.”

“My phone is about to die, ugh.”
“Haaaate being Oklahoma-incommunicado.”

“Be safe behind the wheel, go Oklahoma-incommunicado.”

We can do this, people.