Jonathan Santlofer

I really wanted to like this. I read The Death Artist back in 2008, and I loved it. I rated it 5 stars, and I remember staying up late into the night to finish it. Perhaps my tastes have changed since then, but I just couldn't get into the sequel. I found Kate self-absorbed and unlikeable, and the writing irritating. I was well aware that it was a man writing a woman's POV, because so many of Kate's thoughts didn't sound right. She talked about going out with her "women friends", for show more example, which made me grit my teeth. It sounds exactly like something a man would say. Anyway, there were a bunch of instances like those, and eventually I just had to admit I didn't care enough about what happened to keep reading. show less

When I picked this up I thought it would possibly be a bit trashy but entertaining. I was wrong. It was totally trashy and not entertaining.

The brand name dropping was reminiscent of someone trying to pretend they got what Bret Easton Ellis was doing with that in American Psycho. For a book that was clearly pushing the 'smoking is evil and gives you cancer' angle, maybe the author shouldn't have mentioned Marlboro like he was getting a blowjob for each mention.

I finally pitched this waste show more of paper into the recycling bin when I got to the part where the female main character muses on how she feeds her husband's secretary chocolate truffles to make sure she stays 'plus-sized', and hopes that said secretary stays in her role until after retirement age. Because of course if the secretary is fat and/or old, the husband won't fuck her. I can deal with thrillers being trashy and derivative but piling on the misogynistic body shaming was just too much.

I am rating this one star because unfortunately the rating system doesn't go into negative numbers. Beauty school dropout, go back to art college. show less

When I picked up Jonathan Santlofer's book Anatomy of Fear, I could immediately see that it is different from your average thriller. As you open it your eye is drawn to the drawings that the author has interspersed throughout the story. As I read the book I realized that these drawings were integral to my understanding of the plot, as the book's main character Nate Rodriguez is a police sketch artist and his drawing ability becomes the key to solving a serial murder case. He is called into show more the case because the killer leaves a drawing he has done of the victim pinned to their bodies. Details of these drawings offer clues to the killer's identity, but Nate's uncanny ability to recreate a killer's face from just the scantiest of clues is what really moves the investigation along. The thrill of following along as he tries to catch the killer before more harm is done is blended with a gradual revelation about Nate's own back story and a mystery surrounding the death of his father. I got thoroughly hooked into this story almost immediately, and the ending left me wanting for more so I certainly hope that a sequel appears soon. Anyone who enjoys thrillers and/or who likes graphic novels or novels with a strong visual element should definitely pick this one up. show less

Jonathan Santlofer's wife, Joy, had a procedure done on her knee in 2013 that was, theoretically, "no big deal," and was expected to lead to a full recovery. Shortly after her outpatient surgery, however, Joy was resting at home and complained of feeling ill. Suddenly, she could not catch her breath and her husband called for help. The paramedics who responded to the 911 call and, later, the ER personnel who came to Joy's aid, could not save her. "The Widower's Notebook" is Santlofer's show more attempt to come to terms with the loss of his good-hearted, intelligent, and supportive wife of more than forty years. Jonathan was in shock, and believes that he got through the months following Joy's death thanks to his terrific daughter, Dorie; the help of cherished family and friends; and his work as an artist, teacher, and writer. Joy was a talented food historian who was still writing her magnum opus on the food history of New York City. Jonathan decided that he wanted Joy's book to be published posthumously, but a great deal of editing still remained to be done

In "The Widower's Notebook," Santlofer (who is now seventy-two) relates his meltdown in stark terms. He could not sleep without the aid of pills, experienced PTSD and survivor's guilt, and had unsettling dreams. Jonathan impulsively removed Joy's photos from their picture frames, but kept her clothing and cosmetics exactly where they were. Much to his regret, Jonathan's legal documents were not in perfect order, so he could not move Joy's estate through probate smoothly and, although the medical examiner conducted an autopsy, her husband would not see the results until years later.

Women tend to write memoirs of about widowhood, Santlofer says, because they are programmed by society to talk about their deepest feelings. Many men, and Jonathan is a prime example, try to tamp down their emotions when faced with a catastrophic event, and it would take a very long time for him to speak to his daughter openly about what they both experienced. This is a painful, candid, heartrending, and moving first person account that conveys some important lessons. Among them: Take nothing for granted; behave as compassionately as possible towards others; do not hold unnecessary grudges; forgive yourself for not being perfect; and there is no "one size fits all" when it comes to mourning. Santlofer pays tribute to Joy with beautiful and evocative prose, lovely black and white drawings, and poignant, as well as humorous, memories of their life together. After finishing this book, we feel as if we know Joy and Jonathan, and can well understand why the author still wears his wedding ring and misses his beloved wife so much. show less