Drunk Overboard

Okay, let’s get this out of the way: *Drunk Overboard* is *not* for everyone. If you like your thrillers tidy, your protagonists likable, or your metaphors less… *visceral* (seriously, that rash analogy in the opening? It’s a mood), you might want to swim elsewhere. But if you’re the kind of listener who craves audiobooks that feel like they were recorded in a dive bar at 2 AM—where the storytelling is equal parts hilarious and horrifying—then buckle up. Christopher Boucher’s narration as the narrator (whose name we never learn, because of *course* we don’t) is a masterclass in controlled chaos. He delivers lines like *“I woke up with a mouth full of sand and a text from my ex that read ‘we need to talk’—which, in Florida, is just another way of saying ‘I’ve buried a body’”* with the perfect mix of exhaustion and dark glee. Marissa Parness, as the titular Erika Wild, is his ideal foil: her performance oscillates between seductive and unhinged, like a siren who might just push you off the boat herself. The production quality is crisp, though I’ll dock half a point for a few instances where the volume levels between narrators feel slightly mismatched—nothing deal-breaking, but noticeable if you’re listening on high-quality headphones. The pacing is where this audiobook really shines (or stumbles, depending on your tolerance for narrative whiplash). Mitchell’s story lurches between manic energy and sudden, sobering stillness, mirroring the protagonist’s own unraveling. Some listeners might find the nonlinear jumps jarring, but I’d argue that’s the point—this isn’t a book about clarity, it’s about the disorienting spiral of bad decisions and worse luck. My only real critique? The ending lands with a thud that’s intentionally ambiguous, but may leave some listeners craving more resolution. Then again, maybe that’s the rash talking.