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Normally, I’m not in the habit of wasting my time and energy disparaging things I could easily ignore. But sometimes, it’s not that simple. And when attention gives way to detached (unbiased) observation, criticism may prove constructive — or even highly instructive.
Appearances can be deceiving. And sometimes they are deadly.
The Housemaid (2022)
Intrigued by the phenomenon surrounding Freida McFadden, who, in just a few years, has become the world’s best-selling thriller author, I took a closer look at the works of the “Taylor Swift of the literary world”, as some like to call her, “where extreme mediocrity is rewarded time and time again” (sic). However, despite her phenomenal commercial success and devoted fanbase (the ‘McFans’ of the TikTok generation), Freida McFadden is far from winning universal approval, and her meteoric rise has been marked by controversy.
So what is she criticised for? On the one hand, she's been accused of plagiarism on multiple occasions, although no formal evidence has ever been produced. On the other hand, her overly impersonal and simplistic style, and her hastily written, poorly edited books, are a source of irritation. Her fast-paced publishing schedule, combined with her medical career (as a brain injury specialist) and her avoidance of the media, has even fuelled rumours that she may be using artificial intelligence in her writing process.
I do love him. So much. But I don’t trust him.
The Tenant (2025)
According to her detractors, Freida McFadden is the queen of fast reads, i.e. “literary snacks to consume like fast food, literally and figuratively”. It turns out that this criticism is far from unfounded. Given that unlike many who form opinions based on hearsay I only rely on direct experience, I must confess that I literally wolfed down several of her novels in a matter of days.
Actually, I didn’t read them: I listened to them. Over breakfast. And late into the night. A wise decision. For good voice actors can always make it sound better. But that’s not really what literature is meant for in the first place. Also, just listening tends to bypass critical analysis. Our minds don’t filter information in the same way as they do when we’re reading. It’s uploaded directly into our subconscious. While this can be helpful if we’re actively processing the information, it’s dangerous when we’re in a passive mode. Fortunately, I’m in constant vigilance mode now.
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How to Make Literary Big Macs
So what makes these thrillers so addictive? The thing is, Freida McFadden doesn’t tell stories. She sets up emotional loops. And if we’re hooked, it’s not because they’re good. It’s because they’re astral.
It is a formulaic, industrialised template with the same pace and structure from one book to the next, using a database of interchangeable characters, situations and tropes. And as systematic as this formula may be, it does work.
Multi-perspective novels using two (or sometimes three) points of view, structured around a three-act narrative arc, with very short chapters that always end on (often clickbait-style) cliffhangers designed to recapture the reader’s attention and keep them on their toes — a narrative dopamine rush that the astral is particularly fond of.
A triangle of vacuous, ultra-stereotypical generic characters, all within a precisely targeted age group; impossibly handsome, flawless men, always paired with women who are in a league of their own (sic); a first-person narrative in the present tense, allowing for immediate and effortless identification.
Mystery Man is hot, to say the least. He has thick black hair and coal-black eyes, with a level of intensity that sends yet another lightning bolt through me. His strong jaw makes him seem utterly in control and confident. His face has that pleasing textbook symmetry. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that shows off his lean build and makes his dark hair and eyes seem even more intense.
The Boyfriend (2024)
The grotesque naivety of the protagonists (often women, but not always), which makes them completely oblivious to the massive red flags, is on a par with the worst B-movie plots. It’s a gross misdirection ploy designed to justify the far-fetched final twists that you never see coming.
At least, as long as you haven't read more than one novel. And also provided you don't pay too much attention to the blatantly misleading clues, which are often gratuitous and never explained. The author is banking on the reader's short attention span, assuming they just want to go with the flow without thinking too hard. To hell with the inconsistencies, as long as the adrenaline's pumping!
There is never any catharsis. Nothing gets morally resolved. And that opens up a frequency hole in the psychic field. The reader is left in a state of emotional limbo. Hence the addictiveness. And most people won't even realise it.
All of Them Psychos
Identity theft and parenticide are recurring themes in Freida McFadden’s books. But the most disturbing aspect is undoubtedly the moral ambiguity of all her characters, which tends to normalise borderline personality disorder and manipulation as the standard way of relating to others.
I am so lucky. I have a beautiful house, a fulfilling career, and a husband who is kind and mild-mannered and incredibly handsome. And as Nate pulls the car onto the road and starts driving in the direction of the school, all I can think to myself is that I hope a truck blows through a stop sign, plows into the Honda, and kills us both instantly.
The Teacher (2024)
Her role reversals blur the clear distinction between predator and prey. Since everyone is ‘a bit twisted’, no one really is. Ultimately, this dilutes the concept of predation. And trivialises psychopathy.
“In 1833, Dr. James Prichard formulated an early version of what we now call psychopathy. He called it ‘moral insanity’. People diagnosed with moral insanity were thought to make bad moral judgments but had no defects in their intelligence or mental health. Psychopaths, too, are often clever and sane and are more likely to do things that are widely considered to be immoral.” (Source)
And contrary to popular belief, psychopaths are actually the ones who experience the strongest emotions (and are therefore a major source of fuel for the matrix).
“These people generally have very high levels of frustration, internal anger and intense disgust, which drive them to behave in an aberrant manner,” explains Iso V. Sinclair. “They get a certain thrill from tormenting others. A psychopath becomes one as a result of multiple traumas, and their emotions are so intense that they dissociate and seek revenge. This reaction can be scientifically explained by a lack of mirror neurons, which, due to repressed emotions (often dating back to childhood), leads to a total lack of empathy.”
Read as You Are†
Let’s take off our rose-coloured glasses: this simulation is a world of psychopaths and predators. Freida McFadden is simply pointing this out to us. And paradoxically, people keep coming back for more because they’re unaware of the source of their needs and desires, which, like their thoughts, come from outside themselves.
I believe that any human being is capable of terrible things if you push them hard enough.
Never Lie (2022)
Fiction, then, is not the problem. The problem is passive consumption. Consumed on autopilot, it becomes a form of mind-altering substance. Consumed with clear-eyed awareness, it becomes a mirror of astral mechanisms.
Notes et références
- ^ A hint at McDonald's slogan “Come as you are”.
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