Psst. A little secret between you and me: I’m writing my next thriller novel, and this book has taught me more than any creative writing course ever could. It’s a gem for anyone who loves reading as a writer—and an unputdownable novel to boot.
I’d describe The Blue Hour as a masterful thriller with exquisite writing, taut suspense, and shifting timelines that seamlessly weave between the past and present. Hawkins has crafted an impossibly intricate narrative with such elegance and gripping prose that it never once feels chaotic, overwhelming, or disjointed. Every detail is perfectly oriented, offering contrasting perspectives on art while mirroring the ebb and flow of the tide—a fitting metaphor for how the story unfolds.
Plot Summary
Welcome to Eris: an isolated Scottish island with only one house, one inhabitant, and one way in or out—unreachable from the mainland for twelve hours each day.
Once, it was home to Vanessa: a famous artist whose unfaithful husband vanished under mysterious circumstances two decades ago.
Now, it belongs to Grace: a solitary woman who lives at the mercy of the tides, content in her isolation.
But when a shocking discovery is made in a London art gallery, a visitor comes calling. And the secrets of Eris threaten to surface…
The plot may seem simple at first glance, but it runs as deep as the surrounding sea. The island’s remoteness—cut off from the mainland half the day—is an introvert’s dream, I know. But peace is a stranger to Eris, which harbors secrets darker than its stormy skies. Hawkins explores ambition, legacy, and betrayal through writing that’s atmospheric, stylish, and irresistibly propulsive.
Hawkins masterfully laces the narrative with constant surprises, creating a dark and compelling undertone that hooks you right from the start. The narration style was a personal highlight for me—it’s suspenseful yet measured, unspooling clues with a drip-feed effect rather than a full-on rush. It’s not your typical fast-paced, action-packed thriller. Instead, The Blue Hour is a slow-burn with a sinister undercurrent, building tension with every turn of the page.
The characters are as layered as the plot itself. Vanessa, Grace, and the other players are nuanced, their flaws and motivations laid bare in ways that feel deeply human. Hawkins uses objects—Vanessa’s diary, her letters to Grace and another artist—to seamlessly shift timelines and peel back layers of her characters’ lives. It’s an approach that not only reveals Vanessa’s personality but also ties together past and present with precision.
As much as I admired the complexity of the story and the finesse of Hawkins’ writing, I couldn’t help but feel let down by the ending. The flat conclusion didn’t quite match the heights the book had reached along the way. Even though I could see the predictability coming, I still wished for an ending that maintained the tone and emotional weight built throughout the narrative.
That said, the experience of reading The Blue Hour was far from disappointing. The sinister atmosphere, the clever use of unreliable narrators (a Hawkins signature), and the intricacy of the plot were captivating. I also appreciated the slow-burn approach, which allowed the tension to simmer rather than explode.
Hawkins has proven once again why she’s a master of the genre. While The Blue Hour isn’t perfect, its depth, elegance, and unique narrative structure make it a book worth studying—not just reading.
So, if you’re a fan of thrillers with substance, atmospheric settings, and layers of complexity, this is one to add to your shelf. And if you’re a writer? Prepare to take notes.