Gillian French’s debut into adult crime fiction, Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell, arrives like a bone-chilling wind through the pine forests of rural Maine, carrying with it the weight of sixteen years’ worth of unanswered questions and unresolved grief. This atmospheric thriller marks French’s transition from acclaimed young adult mystery writing to the darker, more complex terrain of adult suspense, and the results are both compelling and deeply unsettling.
The Architecture of Trauma
Shaw Connolly exists in a state of perpetual winter, both literally and emotionally. As a fingerprints analyst for the Maine State Police, she spends her days processing evidence from crime scenes, but it’s the cold case that lives closest to home that truly defines her existence. Sixteen years ago, her seventeen-year-old sister Thea vanished without a trace, leaving behind a family forever suspended in the amber of that terrible April night.
French constructs Shaw’s world with the meticulous precision of a crime scene technician. The rural Maine setting becomes more than mere backdrop—it’s a character unto itself, with its isolated farmhouses, dense woods, and the kind of small-town claustrophobia that makes secrets fester like wounds. The author’s prose carries the stark beauty of a winter landscape, where “the tendons rippling across the tops of her bare feet” and the “washed-out old Wyeth painting of a farmhouse” create an atmosphere that’s simultaneously beautiful and menacing.
The Anatomy of a Predator
The novel’s central antagonist, Anders Jansen, emerges through phone calls that slice through Shaw’s carefully constructed daily routine like a scalpel through skin. French’s portrayal of this stalker is masterfully restrained—we never fully see him until the climactic confrontation, yet his presence permeates every page through his voice alone. His calls are psychological torture sessions disguised as conversations, each one revealing intimate details about Shaw’s life that he couldn’t possibly know unless he’d been watching her family for years.
Anders represents every parent’s nightmare: the predator who has been circling, patient and methodical, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. French’s background in young adult fiction serves her well here, as she understands the particular vulnerability of teenage girls and the ways predators exploit that vulnerability. When Anders describes keeping Thea’s undergarments as trophies, French handles the material with appropriate revulsion while never descending into gratuitous detail.
The Weight of Sisterhood
The relationship between Shaw and her surviving sister Mads forms the emotional core of the novel. French explores how trauma ricochets through families, creating new patterns of damage with each passing year. Shaw’s desperate need to find Thea has consumed her to the point where she can barely maintain relationships with the living members of her family. Her marriage to Ryan has crumbled under the weight of her obsession, and her relationship with Mads is strained by Shaw’s inability to separate her protective instincts from her unresolved grief.
French’s portrayal of this sisterly dynamic rings with authentic complexity. Shaw’s memories of Thea are filtered through both love and guilt, creating a portrait of the missing girl that may be more idealized than real. When Mads finally confronts Shaw about this distortion—“Maybe you’re the one who should sit down and look at the Thea you think you remember. See if you can even separate her from yourself at this point”—the observation lands with devastating accuracy.
Procedural Excellence with Emotional Depth
French demonstrates impressive command of police procedural elements, clearly having done her research into fingerprint analysis, crime scene investigation, and the bureaucratic realities of law enforcement. Shaw’s partnership with rookie analyst Gauthier provides both professional credibility and emotional grounding, showing how trauma survivors can find purpose in helping others seek justice.
The novel’s structure cleverly weaves together multiple timelines and perspectives, gradually revealing the truth about both Thea’s disappearance and the mysterious Jane Doe whose bones Shaw discovers in Beggar’s Meadow. French maintains tension not through cheap tricks or red herrings, but through the steady accumulation of dread and the inexorable tightening of Anders’s psychological noose around Shaw’s neck.
Where the Ice Shows Cracks
While Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell succeeds admirably as both psychological thriller and family drama, it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own ambitions. The subplot involving a series of arsons feels somewhat disconnected from the main narrative thrust, serving more as a reminder of Shaw’s professional competence than as an integral plot element. Additionally, some of the secondary characters, particularly Shaw’s ex-husband Ryan, feel underdeveloped given their importance to Shaw’s emotional journey.
French’s transition from young adult to adult fiction is largely successful, but there are moments where the prose feels slightly constrained, as if she’s holding back from fully embracing the darker implications of her material. The violence, when it comes, is appropriately shocking but feels almost sanitized compared to the psychological brutality that precedes it.
The Echoes of Maine Gothic
French’s Maine setting recalls the best traditions of New England Gothic literature, where the landscape itself becomes complicit in the horror. The novel’s exploration of how small communities can both protect and conceal evil resonates with current discussions about institutional failures and the ways powerful men escape consequences for their crimes. The character of Mercer Brixton, the former sheriff turned gubernatorial candidate who botched the initial investigation into Thea’s disappearance, represents a particularly timely villain—the politician who built his career on others’ suffering.
Justice Served Cold
The novel’s resolution provides both satisfaction and genuine surprise. French avoids the temptation to tie everything up too neatly, understanding that real healing from trauma is messier and more complicated than fictional closure typically allows. Shaw’s final confrontation with Anders is both cathartic and deeply disturbing, as she realizes that getting answers doesn’t necessarily provide the peace she’s been seeking.
The discovery of Thea’s remains brings both resolution and fresh grief, as Shaw must finally confront the reality that her sister has been dead for sixteen years. French handles this revelation with appropriate gravity, understanding that closure is not the same as healing.
A Voice Worth Following
French’s prose style adapts well to adult fiction, maintaining the accessibility that made her young adult work successful while gaining depth and complexity. Her dialogue crackles with authentic regional flavor—Shaw’s voice in particular feels lived-in and real, full of the kind of gallows humor that helps people survive unthinkable circumstances. When Shaw tells Anders that justice “tastes like Pabst Blue Ribbon,” the line perfectly captures both her working-class roots and her hard-won triumph.
Similar Reads for Crime Fiction Enthusiasts
Readers who appreciate Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell should seek out:
- Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad series – for similar atmospheric crime writing and complex character development
- Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects – for its exploration of family trauma and small-town secrets
- Kate Alice Marshall’s What Lies in the Woods – for young adult mysteries with adult appeal
- Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache series – for procedural excellence and character depth
- Paul Doiron’s Mike Bowditch series – for authentic Maine settings and law enforcement detail
Final Verdict
Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell announces Gillian French as a formidable new voice in adult crime fiction. While not without minor flaws, the novel succeeds brilliantly in its primary objectives: creating a compelling protagonist, maintaining suspense throughout, and exploring the long-term effects of unresolved trauma on families and communities.
French’s understanding of both the technical aspects of criminal investigation and the emotional toll of victimization creates a reading experience that’s both intellectually satisfying and emotionally resonant. This is crime fiction that trusts its readers’ intelligence while never forgetting that at its heart lie real human beings struggling with loss, hope, and the desperate need for truth.
For readers seeking crime fiction that goes beyond simple puzzle-solving to explore deeper questions about justice, family, and healing, Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell delivers with uncommon grace and power. French has established Shaw Connolly as a character worth following, and one hopes this is merely the first chapter in what promises to be a compelling series.
- Recommended for fans of: Atmospheric crime fiction, police procedurals, family dramas, and anyone who appreciates the darker side of small-town life.
- Content warnings: Violence, child endangerment, sexual assault (discussed), stalking, and themes of grief and trauma.
