Alice Feeney’s debut novel, Sometimes I Lie, is a psychological thriller that manipulates reality with such calculated precision that readers will find themselves questioning everything they believe from the very first page. Opening with an arresting confession—“My name is Amber Reynolds. There are three things you should know about me: 1. I’m in a coma. 2. My husband doesn’t love me anymore. 3. Sometimes I lie”—Feeney immediately establishes a relationship with readers built on shaky ground. How can we trust a narrator who readily admits to dishonesty? This brilliant setup creates an atmosphere of suspicion that permeates every revelation that follows.
The novel unfolds across three timelines: Amber’s present-day experience trapped in a hospital bed, conscious but unable to move or communicate; the week before her accident; and diary entries from twenty-five years earlier. Each narrative strand weaves together to create a tapestry of deceit, trauma, and psychological damage that culminates in one of the most shocking conclusions I’ve read in recent psychological thrillers.
Masterful Structure and Pacing
Feeney demonstrates remarkable skill in her debut through the novel’s intricate structure. The three-part timeline could easily become confusing or disjointed in less capable hands, but Feeney navigates these shifts with confidence and clarity. Each timeline is distinct yet interconnected, revealing pieces of a puzzle that only fully materializes in the final pages.
The pacing is impeccable, balancing tense, claustrophobic scenes in Amber’s hospital room with the mounting tension of the week leading up to her accident. Meanwhile, the childhood diary entries slowly reveal critical information about Amber’s past that contextualizes her present circumstances. The result is a thriller that grips from the first page and never loosens its hold.
Complex Characters with Hidden Depths
At the center of this psychological labyrinth is Amber Reynolds, whose complexity reveals itself gradually throughout the narrative. Initially presented as a sympathetic victim—trapped in her own body, uncertain of what put her there—Amber’s character evolves in unexpected ways. Feeney excels at creating a protagonist whose reliability is constantly in question, forcing readers to reassess their assumptions with each new revelation.
The supporting cast is equally compelling, particularly Amber’s sister Claire and husband Paul. Their relationships with Amber form the emotional core of the novel, yet Feeney imbues them with ambiguity that keeps readers uncertain about their true motives. The character of Edward, an ex-boyfriend who reappears in Amber’s life, is especially chilling; his obsessive nature gradually revealed to horrifying effect.
Psychological Depth and Trauma
Beyond its twisting plot, Sometimes I Lie explores the lasting impact of childhood trauma with psychological acuity. Feeney demonstrates how early experiences shape identity and perception, sometimes in deeply destructive ways. Amber’s obsessive-compulsive tendencies—checking door locks repeatedly, arranging items in specific patterns—are depicted with authenticity, revealing the coping mechanisms used to create order in a life marked by chaos.
The novel also delves into the unreliability of memory. Amber’s fragmented recollections, coupled with her admitted dishonesty, create a narrative landscape where truth is constantly shifting. This exploration of how trauma distorts memory adds depth to what might otherwise be a straightforward thriller.
Brilliant Use of Unreliable Narration
Feeney’s most impressive achievement is her masterful handling of the unreliable narrator trope. Amber’s opening confession that she sometimes lies immediately puts readers on guard, yet Feeney skillfully manipulates this wariness throughout the narrative. What begins as doubt about specific details gradually expands into questioning entire aspects of Amber’s reality, culminating in revelations that force a complete reinterpretation of the story.
This technique succeeds because Feeney doesn’t rely solely on narrative trickery—she anchors Amber’s perspective in believable psychological traits and experiences. The unreliable narration serves character development as much as plot twists, making the revelations feel earned rather than arbitrary.
Areas for Improvement
Despite its many strengths, the novel isn’t without flaws. Some readers may find the final series of twists excessive, straining credibility to its breaking point. While Feeney establishes a foundation for these revelations, their rapid-fire delivery in the closing chapters can feel overwhelming rather than satisfying.
Additionally, certain character motivations, particularly relating to Madeline Frost, remain somewhat underdeveloped. As a pivotal figure in the backstory, her characterization occasionally feels more functional to the plot than fully realized.
Comparison to Similar Works
Fans of psychological thrillers like Paula Hawkins’ The Girl on the Train and Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl will find much to appreciate in Feeney’s debut. Like these works, Sometimes I Lie features an unreliable female narrator and domestic suspense elements. However, Feeney distinguishes her work through her unique three-timeline structure and her willingness to venture into darker psychological territory.
The novel also bears comparison to S.J. Watson’s Before I Go to Sleep, another thriller featuring a protagonist with memory issues, though Feeney’s approach is ultimately more complex in its layering of deception and reality.
Memorable Moments and Imagery
Several scenes in Sometimes I Lie demonstrate Feeney’s talent for vivid, unsettling imagery:
- Amber’s descriptions of being trapped in her comatose body create a claustrophobic atmosphere that pulls readers into her terrifying experience
- The recurring motif of the robin doorstop, initially innocent but gradually revealed to have sinister significance
- The chilling hospital scenes where Edward abuses Amber’s helpless state, combining psychological and physical horror
- The surreal, dreamlike sequences where Amber encounters the faceless little girl in the pink dressing gown
These moments showcase Feeney’s ability to create visceral, memorable scenes that linger in the reader’s imagination.
Brilliant Use of Nursery Rhymes and Symbolism
Throughout the novel, Feeney employs nursery rhymes and childhood songs to unsettling effect. “The wheels on the bus,” “Twinkle, twinkle, little star,” and other seemingly innocent verses become disturbing refrains that connect to Amber’s traumatic past. This technique creates a dissonant contrast between childlike innocence and psychological darkness.
Symbolism is equally effective, particularly:
- The recurring imagery of stars that can’t shine without darkness
- The motif of the robin doorstop, which becomes a symbol of home, violence, and control
- The bracelet with “My darling girl” engraved on it, representing stolen identity and obsession
- The repeated phrase “two peas in a pod,” which evolves from an expression of connection to something far more sinister
These symbolic elements add depth to the narrative, creating resonance between the timelines and enhancing the psychological complexity.
Final Verdict
Sometimes I Lie is an exceptional debut that demonstrates Alice Feeney’s considerable talents as a psychological thriller writer. Her ability to manipulate perception, build complex characters, and deliver genuine surprises marks her as a significant voice in the genre. While some elements strain credibility, the novel’s psychological depth and structural ingenuity overshadow these concerns.
For readers who enjoy psychological thrillers that venture beyond surface-level suspense into darker explorations of identity, trauma, and perception, Sometimes I Lie offers a disturbing yet compelling journey. Just remember what Amber tells you from the beginning: sometimes she lies. The question is, can you figure out when?
Key Strengths:
- Masterful handling of the unreliable narrator trope
- Intricate three-timeline structure that reveals information at perfect intervals
- Psychologically complex characters with believable motivations
- Genuinely surprising twists that force readers to reevaluate everything they thought they knew
Areas for Improvement:
- Some revelations in the final act risk overwhelming readers
- Certain supporting characters could be more fully developed
- A few plot elements strain credibility, even within the established psychological framework
Since this accomplished debut, Feeney has continued to establish herself as a prominent voice in psychological thrillers with titles like I Know Who You Are, Rock Paper Scissors, Daisy Darker, His & Hers and Beautiful Ugly, but Sometimes I Lie remains a standout achievement that announces a writer unafraid to delve into the darkest corners of human psychology. Readers who enjoy having their perceptions manipulated and assumptions challenged will find this novel impossible to put down—and equally impossible to forget.
