The protagonist of this ambitious, postmodern tale from Australian author Sulari Gentill (Murder Unmentioned, 2014) is Madeleine d’Leon, a part-time corporate attorney whose true passion is writing crime fiction. Maddie is under contract to produce another quirky cozy featuring housemaid Veronica Killwilly when she is struck with the idea for a mystery about a literary novelist named Edward McGinty. Edward is in love with his married best friend, Willow Meriwether, who stands accused of murdering odious art critic Geoffrey Vogel during the opening of her new gallery show. Edward is also a suspect, since Vogel used to be his editor. Maddie pitches the project to her agent, who reminds her that she’s on deadline and cautions her against diluting her brand. Maddie is loath to abandon Edward, though—particularly since he’s better company than her husband, supercilious doctor Hugh Lamond.
Maddie’s original intent was for Edward to solve the murder and exonerate both himself and Willow, but the fonder she grows of her protagonist, the more conflicted she becomes regarding the progression of her plot and the identity of Vogel’s killer. As her marriage deteriorates, Maddie starts spending more and more time with Edward—and he with her, since in addition to investigating Vogel’s murder, Edward is working on a novel about an unhappily married crime writer named Madeleine d’Leon. Maddie’s narration is interspersed with snippets from her manuscript, which are in turn interspersed with fragments from Edward’s manuscript, and it’s not long before the reader begins to question who created whom and which writer is real.
Near the opening of Crossing the Lines, Edward tells Willow that his latest project is “an exploration of an author’s relationship with her protagonist, an examination of the tenuous line between belief and reality, imagination and self, and what happens when the line is crossed.” She reacts with skepticism: “But how are you going to make that sustain an entire book? Opening a laptop and typing isn’t exactly an action scene.” “The story’s about what goes on in her head and how powerful that becomes,” Edward replies, encapsulating both the book that he’s writing and the one Gentill’s readers are holding.
Willow’s objections prove sound—Gentill’s plot is a tad slight and the pace occasionally drags—but on the whole, Crossing the Lines is a worthwhile read. Though far from fair play, Gentill’s mystery within a mystery intrigues, and she successfully captures what it’s like when characters seemingly develop minds of their own. Madeleine and Edward’s burgeoning romance not only embodies the passion that writers feel for their work, but also illustrates how the creation of fiction can serve the same function as a vacation, therapy, or even an extramarital affair.
