Love in the Time of Serial Killers or How to Negatively Portray Your Plus-Sized Characters Without Trying to

For about a year, I’ve wanted to read Love in the Time of Serial Killers. The cover was adorable, and the premise seemed to be Disturbia meets How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. I wanted to love the book, but I stopped reading by the time I reached page 76. There were various reasons I added the book to my DNF pile, but the main one was Phoebe, the plus-sized main character.

Phoebe is an edgy, self-proclaimed true crime junkie who doesn’t seem to have a positive thing to say about anyone. When she meets the love interest at the start of the book, she assumes he’s a serial killer and even gives him a serial killer nickname. He isn’t doing suspicious things in his garage, or digging graves in his backyard when she gives him this nickname. He asks her if she needs help while moving her desk, and she decides he must want to kill her because he wanted to help her.

There’s no chemistry between the two, nor does Phoebe have chemistry with any other character in the novel. She seems to hate everyone around her. She often reminds the reader of how those people are the ones who make her feel uncomfortable. The biggest example of this is her brother, who disgusts her with his happiness and love for his girlfriend.

Why isn’t the ‘lovely’ Phoebe entitled to the same love and happiness as everyone else in the book? From what I’ve gathered in the first few pages, it’s because she’s plus-sized.

Phoebe reminds the reader at least three times within those first pages that she’s plus-sized. One of these times, she uses her size to comment that her love interest probably prefers skinny girls, comparing herself (negatively) to a girl who doesn’t exist. Phoebe’s weight should have little to do with her love story, but it’s brought up an uncomfortable number of times in the few pages I read.

Phoebe’s flaws aren’t exclusive to her. Writers often consider the size of plus-sized characters when creating them, but this isn’t always positive. In the past, movies like Shallow Hal have depicted plus-sized characters as slobs who have consumed large amounts of food. They’ll make comments referencing their size and weight more than a ‘normal’ sized character would. Sometimes their weight is an important part of the story. They'll lose weight and become more attractive, or their appearance will lead to them being denied an opportunity. Often, they’ll lose weight for the approval of others, usually a love interest who rejected them in the past.

One thing I’ve noticed when reading or watching something with plus-sized characters is that their weight is often a center of negativity for them. In movies like 2016’s Ghostbusters, Melissa McCarthy’s character has many jokes centering on her weight. In books, plus-sized protagonists are often worried that their love interest isn’t interested in them because of their weight.

Alicia Thompson, the author who wrote Love in the Time of Serial Killers, likely thought that she was crafting a positive and edgy protagonist. The problem with her approach is that she wrote Phoebe as a character who constantly must defend herself from what others think, especially about her weight. This is a trend I’ve seen recently, mostly in romance novels.

A well-written plus-sized character wouldn’t constantly remind us of their size because most people don’t remind us of their size. People of all shapes and sizes exist, and they all have different interests and hobbies. They also have different insecurities, but they rarely bring them up as often as Phoebe brought up her weight. Well-written characters can focus on their other qualities instead of constantly discussing their weight.

Alicia Thompson quickly threw away Phoebe's character's potential by making her a negative character. I would have loved to read about a true crime-obsessed heroine who falls for a guy she thinks is a serial killer, and maybe someday I will.

The best thing about Love in the Time of Serial Killers is the cover.