The premise of Look What You Made Me Do immediately drew me in. Billed as a revenge story centred on Kate, who believes she has been betrayed by her husband. His affair with writer Phoebe, plays out in a Netflix drama penned by her and exposes the intimacies of Kate’s marital private life. It promised the sort of juicy tale where wrongs are righted and justice is aptly served. You go in expecting fireworks… Or at the very least, a satisfying dose of comeuppance.

Instead, this was a proper slog.

I found myself counting down the pages, determined to see it through rather than abandon it altogether. There is always the hope that a slow burn will eventually ignite, and the final act will reward your patience. Unfortunately, that moment never quite arrives.

A major issue lies with the characters themselves. They are not simply flawed or morally grey, they are largely unlikeable and, crucially, uninteresting. Kate experiences a bereavement that should evoke sympathy, yet she comes across as so unpleasant that it becomes difficult to care about her situation. Phoebe doesn’t fare any better. She feels written as the sort of cutting, sharp tongued woman the author perhaps imagined readers would find endearment, but there simply is not enough substance behind her to make that land. Without wit, vulnerability or depth, both women remain frustratingly distant.

The revenge plot, the core of the story, is equally underwhelming. I expected something bold or shocking enough to keep the pages turning, but early acts of retaliation, such as sending a barrage of unwanted pizzas to an address, feel more trivial than tantalising. When the central revenge finally unfolds, it veers into the outlandish without earning the emotional investment required to make it satisfying. The character most affected by these events is someone we barely know, which makes the outcome feel hollow rather than dramatic.

Even the motivation behind Phoebe’s decision to create the television show in the first place, a thread the novel spends considerable time building towards, ultimately lands with a thud. The backstory is treated as a major reveal, yet it proves surprisingly flat and anticlimactic.

Structurally, the novel meanders for long stretches before reaching the section where it is meant to accelerate. But rather than shifting into a gripping finale, the narrative continues at the same plodding pace. It never truly gets going.

I also struggled with Lanchester’s style. Many sentences feel overly complex and rambling, creating a heaviness that slows the reading experience. Interspersed script style excerpts from the fictional Netflix show do little to enhance the story and instead feel like unnecessary interruptions.

In the end, Look What You Made Me Do is an example of a strong concept that never realises its potential. The ingredients for a compelling revenge drama are all there, but the execution lacks tension, emotional weight and momentum.

An intriguing premise, but ultimately a complete snore and a missed opportunity.

⭐️.5