REVIEW: "Swipe Right for Murder" by Derek Milman
I was in middle school when my family got the internet.
Even before we gained internet access, though, I had a rough idea of what “the internet” was — thanks to a segment about the topic I had seen on “Kids News” with Linda Ellerbee.
*In fact, I think this is actual footage from that actual broadcast.
As I first logged on and explored the shallows of what would become a resource with unlimited depths, I was utterly and completely amazed. The broadcast, which had expounded on the virtues of this developing tool, hadn’t even begun to do it justice.
I actively remember, during one of my first few surfing sessions, thinking, “What the fuck!” — Or whatever my youthful, sanitized version of “what the fuck,” was back before the f-bomb became such an integral part of my vocabulary.
Even as shitty as it was at the time — with a dial-up connection with which it would take you a solid 2 minutes to load all of the images on a web page — I just couldn’t believe that it was actually possible.
I remember that, for a period of time, I would come home from school every day, so excited to get online.
Absolutely eager to sit there and play Minesweeper while it connected.
Clicking away while listening to the discordant dial-up tone.
At the time, I was willing to wait.
Because it was going to be worth it.
But, somehow, in direct proportion to the degree to which the usefulness of the internet increased, my reverence for the internet and willingness to hold on for one God-damned-minute decreased.
Fast forward 23 years and I rant about my phone being a piece of shit if it takes more than 3 seconds to navigate between pages.
Things.
Have.
Changed.
One major change that has inarguably been fueled by the presence of the internet is a shift in the way we find romantic partners.
Nowadays, it’s not necessary to stand around peacocking at bars.
All it takes is a swipe and a click — and maybe a dick pic — and you’re all set to go.
High school student, Aiden Jamison, has never known a time pre-internet.
And so it is likely unsurprising that he feels that the best way to access some quick and (hopefully) STD free booty is to log on to an app and search for willing partners.
He’s doing just that one evening, while staying solo at a ritzy hotel in New York City, when he gets a bit more than he bargained for.
When he first connects with Benoit, Aiden is enthusiastic.
After all, Beniot is hot older man with a name that, admittedly, would roll right off your tongue during sex (once you learn to pronounce it).
And this enthusiasm doesn’t fade when they meet face-to-face for the first time.
In fact, it only grows because, as it turns out, hottie Beniot is a more than courteous partner.
Satisfied and satiated, Aiden falls asleep next to him after their hookup.
Unfortunately, when Aiden wakes, he finds Benoit very much dead and himself very much embroiled in an intrigue about which he knows nothing and from which he doesn’t know how to extricate himself.
Unsure who to trust or what to do, Aiden does the only thing that seems logical: run.
But despite his sound decision to flee, he simply can’t escape the people who killed Beniot. For some reason Aiden can’t fathom, they think he has something they want. And they won’t rest until he hands it over.
Though marketed as a young adult novel — and published under James Patterson’s YA Imprint, Jimmy — this novel contained some extremely raw and mature material.
In fact, I don’t think I would want my own son reading it until he was at least 17.
From start to finish it was unapologetically gritty — which is a strength when the book finds its way into the hands of someone mature enough to handle this grit.
And, ultimately, this grit was neither gratuitous nor unnecessary as Derek Milman’s pull-no-punches approach to telling this story seemed to add to the authenticity of the tale.
Unlike what you might expect from a YA book, this novel didn’t contain a sanitized version of what should be a rich tale of espionage.
Our protagonist was in real danger.
The goals of the organization against which he was fighting were truly complex.
And the methods employed were genuinely insidious.
This made the peril feel real and the urgency of Aiden’s escape palpable.
Another clear strength of this novel was that the line between right and wrong was ever-shifting and, generally, quite unclear.
Readers weren’t presented with a black and white dichotomy, as they so often are in novels of this type.
Quite the contrary, there were lots of shades of gray.
And these shades of gray didn’t disappear as the novel progressed. Instead, by virtue of the nature of the organization that was acting as the antagonist in this book, it became increasingly confusing.
*Spoiler Alert*
Let me elaborate.
The group Aiden was unwittingly brought into, the Swans, was, by definition, a terrorist organization.
But the Swans targeted their terror on the grossly intolerant and extremely homophobic. They aimed to bring down groups that most would agree — this reviewer included — are perpetuating hate.
So, while they clearly shouldn’t be murdering these people — especially not in the horrific ways they did in the novel — it was easy to feel a little more… ambivalent… about it.
*End Spoilers*
Given the plot of this novel, I wasn’t surprised to find that it contained pretty much non-stop action.
I was surprised to discover, however, that despite this new constant action there were times when it seemed to drag.
I cared about Aiden — and I wanted him to get out of the pickle into which he had managed to screw himself — but I didn’t care enough to read this novel compulsively.
Though I can’t put my finger on why, this novel was more putdownable than I would really have liked it to be.
The lasting legacy of this novel, to me, will be the degree to which it surprised me.
Though it wasn’t perfect, it was so much more than I expected it to be.
I went into it anticipating a medium-drama, low-grit YA version of a thriller.
What it turned out to be was an unflinching, dogged espionage-esque thriller that raised real questions about the LGBTQ rights advocates have fought so hard to gain.
I have esteem for the cause and am galvanized by the risks that Milman took in telling his tale the way he did.
This in-my-opinion-not-so-YA read earns 4 out of 5 cocktails.
Do you read YA? As a former English teacher, I just can’t get the YA monkey off my back and am always looking for new YA reads to check out. Tell me about your favorite young adult reads in the comments below so I can add them to my TBR.
Want to see what I’m reading next? Follow me, here.
* Drink. Read. Repeat. is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. As an associate, we may earn commissions, at no cost to you, from qualifying purchases on Amazon.com
