Terry Tyler’s nineteenth published work is a psychological thriller set in a dystopian near future – the UK, Year 2028. Blogger Lita Stone and journalist Nick Freer live and work online, seeing life through soundbites, news TV and social media. Keeping the outside world at bay in their cosy flat, they observe the ruthless activities of the new PM and his celebrity fitness guru wife, Mona (hashtag … Mona (hashtag MoMo), with the mild outrage that can be quelled simply by writing another blog post.
Meanwhile, in the outside world, multinational conglomerate Nutricorp is busy buying up supermarket chains, controlling the media, and financing the new compounds for the homeless: the Hope Villages.
Lita and Nick suspect little of the danger that awaits the unfortunate, until the outside world catches up with them – and Lita is forced to discover a strength she never knew she possessed.
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I read so many different types of books these days I no longer rate them with any kind of comparison in mind. My only real tests now are how ‘putdownable’ they are (or rather, not), and whether they are technically well-written overall. Well Terry Tyler scores tops on both points here. Hope is a remarkable and totally unputdownable book, utterly compelling in fact. Its storyline moves from relaxed and comfortable to uneasy and finally to gut-wrenchingly terrifying in small but incremental steps as, following a few unanticipated strokes of misfortune that blight the main characters’ lives, the tension and fear escalate.
And I was hooked. I couldn’t stop picking it up at every possible opportunity: on the bus, before a class, during a break, just about everywhere. I’m not going to say ‘it’s all so possible’ because I’m not sure if it really is, but then I don’t live in the UK, so I don’t know how susceptible current British society is to the kind of online political and social conditioning the story suggests. If it is, then I am even more horrified. That said, as one of many scenarios we might see for the future, it strikes a very heavy warning note. The book is set just ten years hence, so it feels as if it’s all just around the corner. If this is so, everyone, especially young people, should read it and take heed.
I loved the main character, Lita. She was real and understandable, both feisty and fearful. Everyone else in the book is depicted through her eyes and I grew fond of those Lita was fond of for that reason: lovely, daft Kendall, sharp and intelligent Nick, and Brody, Lita’s ‘no commitments’ lover, until he isn’t. What makes the book so compelling is Terry Tyler’s brilliant characterisation. It is because the reader relates so easily to these essentially normal, likeable people that the terrible situations they are drawn into become our situations too.
Altogether, a terrific read and highly recommended.
“Hope” is the perfectly titled new dystopian novel by prolific author Terry Tyler. Hope, of course, is all but abandoned in dystopias, including this one set in a Britian perhaps twenty years into the future, where the Prime Minister is married to an American heiress and media star. Her legacy is a vast and chilling conglomerate, Nutricorp, that controls everything in England from across the pond—to the food people eat to the prices they pay to the amped up media they consume.
Main character Lita is one of the fortunates at the start of the story. She’s still able to afford housing, shared with two friends, and has a dream job as a product review blogger. Lita has a huge following and lucrative advertising deals that keep her from the bread lines she notices growing daily. The social media aspects of the novel are so spot on that they seem predictions of our own world not too far from today.
Lita, who likes to get out from behind the computer and phone screens and into the real world, also works part-time at a restaurant, one of the few that is not owned by Nutricorp. She does it more for the people interactions than the cash. Lita and her friends talk about how the homeless population seem to have all but disappeared into new shelters: “Hope Villages” built and equipped by Nutricorp.
Soon, the restaurant closes, unable to compete with Nutricorp. Lita is fine, for a while. She’s still got her blogging gig and has even been asked to review a new kind of healthy drink for Nutricorp. This leads to unimaginable, even terrifying, consequences. Lita is at heart an investigative journalist and her curiosity and sense of justice lead her to a heart-pounding climax. Is all hope truly lost, or is there a glimmer somewhere in the distance? This page-turning psychological thriller is both a caution and a prayer.
As a fan of Terry Tyler’s books, I was expecting to enjoy her latest book, Hope. What I was not expecting to be was horrified as well. I doubt that I am the only one who wonders how we are going to move forward from our lives today, as technology becomes integrated, into not just our personal lives, but in communications, the work place and crucially, as an every advancing tool for our governments. We are already spied on by cameras, monitored on social media, having our personal data used for many purposes, and allegedly listened to on our devices. Wonderful if the attention is to stop crime as they tell us, but how quickly it might cross over into population manipulation.
This is set only a few years into the future from 2023 on wards. Ordinary, hard working people are being fired from their jobs and find themselves homeless and at the mercy of the government and the new aid package. Villages where there is little hope of leaving, and where the numbers do not add up. Well crafted media campaigns promise a better Britain but it is tough to tell truth from lies. Those who want to expose the corruption are shut down and seeking the truth becomes dangerous.
The author has captured the era of where we are now accurately, which is very frightening. Superficial role models, a welfare state, education and health service stretched to the limit and increased lifestyle related obesity and disease. Crucially she also recognises how very little positivity is broadcast via the media, creating a very stark environment especially for the younger generation. Tyler then takes the next, and possibly inevitable step on from this scenario, leading us to a very dark place.
The main characters are realistic and identifiable, and are like billions of us, blogging and posting online daily, and initially doing very well by providing content that pleases. Some who are more sceptical are also working behind the scenes, questioning both the government and the growing monopoly Nutricorp taking over sectors of the food and health industry. Some work within the corporation, and begin to question its ethics or refuse to conform to the draconian regulations, but they are soon rooted out and fired. Leaving them with little option but accept the offer to relocate into one of the villages for the homeless… named Hope.
Those at the government level are greedy and self-seeking, and their goal is to get the population fit for work, and off benefits, by any means possible.
If this book was set in 2050 or later, one could dismiss it as a piece of science fiction that would never happen in reality. But everyday we see the signs of a fractured society in the headlines, in our own community and in most of our countries. I think everyone should read the book to see where that might lead us if we are not careful about who we put into power.
You won’t want to put the book down… and it will leave you with much to think about.
There is a dark, brooding undercurrent which runs throughout this novel, threatening to engulf the very likeable main protagonists, blogger Lita Stone and journalist Nick Freer. This story is set in 2028 within an ominous, dystopian Britain ruled by a mega conglomerate and its puppet politicians; a world full of social media obsession and devices to record every move and thought of the populace. As the lives of the main characters are sucked down into increasingly hopeless situations, they find themselves with no choice but to live in one of the desolate Hope Villages and the feeling of hope becomes more intangible to them. We realize that this world is actually not so very far removed from our current reality, with its TV star politicians and their fashion designer advisers. Indeed the reader can hardly avoid considering whether such a future could be possible in their own reality. Today’s most powerful corporations have access to our every thought and household conversation via the apps and devices we happily buy and install without too much thought for their corporate intentions.
Towards the end of the novel Lita realizes: “The Fear that has been with me all my life has taken on a darker, deadlier form”. With all of the depressing things happening in the world right now this is a relatable statement that is probably true for many of us.
I found myself gripped throughout the novel by a feeling that the narrative is building up to something, some kind of “Final Battle” type of air-clearer, hoping for a much needed happy ending but suspecting all along that in the world of Operation Galton such catharsis was impossible. There is a small sense of hope at which to grasp at the end of the story and I am rooting for Lita and Brody. Let’s hope good things happen to good people. I look forward to reading the sequel, Wasteland.
Hope is a frightening exploration of a not-too-distant, dystopian future, the fourth decade of the 21st century. Frightening, and very disturbing, because this near future is entirely plausible in a world where social media has become even more intrusive than it is today, and where people share their lives online.
UK Prime Minister, Guy Morrissey, his health and fitness fanatic wife, Mona, and their perfect children, have become role models for the entire nation: Brand Morrissey. Any individual who doesn’t conform to Mona’s fitness regime (#FitForWork) finds themselves unemployed.
The power behind Brand Morrissey is the Nutricorp company, founded by Mona’s father, Paul Bettencourt. While it appears, on the surface, that Nutricorp has the nation’s best interests at heart, Nutricorp’s underlying motives are purely financial, through control of the population.
Young woman, Lita Stone earns her living from the profitable adverts people place on her well-known blog, where she posts honest reviews and comments on social issues. She shares accommodation with a sensitive young girl, Kendall, and with Nick, a journalist and anonymous icon behind the satirical and scathing online persona, Widow Skanky.
When the lives of Lita, Nick and Kendall take a downward turn, the trio find themselves homeless. And since there is no place for homelessness in this Brand Morrissey nation, they are sent, along with many others, to a Hope village, all of which are funded by Nutricorp.
The title of the book primarily indicates the Hope villages, which, with their policies of total control over the residents, hold anything but hope. But as we follow the struggles of Lita, Nick and Kendall, the true meaning of “hope” does emerge, as the ending leaves us with hope for the battle against such evil.
Terry Tyler is a skilled and talented writer, her descriptions vividly depicting the people living in this disturbing dystopia she so well imagines: those existing on both sides of the coin. She portrays a wide array of personalities: the ones who thrive in such situations, those who suffer, and those who decide to fight back.
I found Hope a thought-provoking and compelling read. I highly recommend it, not only for readers who enjoy dystopian fiction, but for those seeking a believable, multi-layered and suspenseful psychological thriller.
Set in the not too-distant future (four decades into the 21st Century) in the UK, Hope is narrated by Lita Stone, a popular and well-known blogger and social media aficionado, who lives in a flat with her best friends, Nick and Kendall. Living the “online life,” Lita is tuned in to the nation’s politics. She becomes increasingly uneasy by the policies of Prime Minster Guy Morrissey and his fitness guru wife, Mona, who, like Lita, has a large social media presence.
Although Lita and her friends are happy in their private flat, she cannot help but be concerned about the Hope Villages, homeless compounds that are owned by a US corporation called Nutricorp, that are suddenly dotting the landscape and offering services that some might see as too good to be real. It’s a good thing they are secure in their flat …
Only pages into this book, I found myself feeling unnerved by Lita’s narrative. In one respect it was intimate, in another, chilling. As rumors about life at the Villages began to increase, so did my anxiety. There was nothing in the story that I believed could never happen, and much that is way close to events that are already happening.
Hope isn’t the kind of thriller with shoot-outs and car chases, but a psychological thriller and cautionary tale paced ever so delicately, with just the right balance of hope and despair, that it keeps the reader off-kilter. If my schedule had allowed for it, I might have read this book in one sitting, as it was that engrossing and that gripping. Author Tyler has crafted a superb story that is more than just fiction; it is a warning worth heeding.
Just when I come up with something that defines Terry Tyler’s writing, she delivers another game changer. In reviewing her other books, I’ve said that the one thing you can count on is that she’s not identified by genre, style, or theme. In fact, each new book (or series) is almost completely different from the others.
So what does Terry do? She writes Hope, a psychological thriller that echoes the dystopian themes and warnings of her excellent Project Renova series. And you know what’s worse? It’s good—seriously good.
The story follows Lita Stone, lifestyle blogger and social influencer—a term she hates but embraces all the same because it comes with the money, gifts, and freebies that make up her income. Although she works part time in a cafe, she sees her time there as a chance to ‘interact with live human beings’, while her main source of income is her blog. But along with her roommate Nick, Lita is worried about the slow, almost imperceptible, changes to the world around her—changes that see people less willing to help each other, and more willing to accept the loss of social gains and even privacy.
Lita lives with her two best friends—political blogger Nick and surrogate little sister Kendall. Together, they represent in microcosm most of the population of the UK. Nick is the brooding but altruistic visionary who is first to see what’s going on, but fundamentally underestimates the scope and scale of his enemy. Lita is the damaged orphan, an unreliable narrator terrified of sharing her love with anyone outside of the three-person family they’ve made, incapable even of trusting her relationship with her not-quite-boyfriend Brody. But she’s also the glue that holds their little chosen-family unit together. Kendall is the one who accepts #MoMo’s promises. It’s just so much easier to ignore the threat posed by the Hope Villages with their horrific echoes of the worst Victorian workhouses than to bother thinking for herself. Ironically, it’s Kendall who symbolizes the rest of the country. She surrenders her heart and soul to MoMo’s promises, is betrayed in the most fundamental way by the Hope Villages, yet represents the hope for the future.
As with all her work, Terry’s signature is her brilliant character development. Lita, who narrates most of the story, slowly peels back her own layers to reveal the insecurities that make her an unreliable narrator, both less smart and more brave than she realizes as she accepts the unthinkable situation as well as the unbelievable possibility that she is the one person who might change it.
Author Terry Tyler’s brilliant world building and character development doesn’t stop with the main characters. Consider this description of CJ, the former lover of Lita’s ‘sometimes-boyfriend’ Brody:
[QUOTE:]“He was offered the room by his friend CJ, with whom he had a relationship at one time; she’s one of those frightfully boho, arty women who say clever, profound things about the role of women in society. She has a bleached platinum crop and endless legs that are usually encased in black leather jeans; she’s a freelance website designer who vapes constantly and only ever drinks neat Grey Goose vodka, which I can’t help thinking is just a pose.” [END QUOTE]
And that, ladies and gentlemen and readers, is how you nail an entire character in two sentences. (You should probably take a breath now.)
There’s a theme that repeats several times through the book. “We are defined by the choices we make.” An entire country accepts a choice of government that promises to keep them safe—in exchange for loss of personal choice, and even at the cost of systematically turning their most precious possessions—phone, social media connections, internet access, friends, and even their own families—against them.
Kendall accepts life without trying to make choices. Lita doesn’t even realize she’s made the choice that starts her spiral into homelessness and life in the Hope Villages. And Nick makes a spur-of-the-moment choice that changes everything. But the turning point for Lita is what I think is the theme of the book, and that occurs when she accepts and then embraces being defined by the choices she’s made.
I wouldn’t say this is a perfect book. As I’ve said before, the author’s grasp of real world economics is shaky at best. I think most Americans would, like me, be amused at the thought they would—even for commercial reasons—have any desire to own the UK. (They might also be surprised at all the references to the ‘American Dream’ which actually means the exact opposite of how it’s repeatedly used here.)
But what I realized was that these points are actually irrelevant. When watching Walking Dead, you don’t stop to say, “But you know, zombies don’t really exist.” Nobody tells Harry Potter there’s no such thing as magic. And of course, Bambi can talk. Duh. In the same way, the real horrors of Hope Villages don’t lay with the economics of the structure, but with an all-too-human tendency to let others make choices for you.
There are so many brilliant echoes in this book, like the subtle reminders of the dystopian Big Brother in Nineteen Eighty-Four, with its not-at-all subtle echoes of the Nazis and their own ‘Final Solution’. But there are also notes of humor and love and—in an even more ironic twist on the title—hope. So unlike the dystopian classics, the flawed, three-dimensional, characters of Hope had me rooting for them and, yes, believing that hope is possible.