Why the show quietly outdid the book

And why the extra time and space were everything to the story

Once E. Lockhart's We Were Liars hit the shelves in 2014, it exploded into a literary frenzy - every parent was talking about it. With a poetic style and eerie twist on memory, privilege, and grief, this book dug deep into the psyche of so many readers, especially teens who seemed to be seeking books with an emotional overtone, a strange shadow or two of mystique, and just enough tragedy. It was the kind of book one had to read in one sitting, just to sit in silence afterward, trying to process that ending.

Cadence Sinclair narrated memories of being born into old money and quiet dysfunction. Every summer, her family escaped to their private island where it's all about appearances, and certain truths are quietly buried. After a mysterious accident that left her with memory loss, Cadence returned to the island to find out what actually happened, something that, for some reason, felt odd to her now.

Image credit: Daniel Barnes on Unsplash

Naturally, I was curious - perhaps a little skeptical - when the adaptation arrived on Amazon Prime. The book had great things going for it, especially with the emotional revealing moments and the unique voice of Cadence; however, to my surprise, the show embodied the spirit of the book and ran further with it.

The story had space to breathe:

In We Were Liars, the narration was foggy and fragmented on purpose. Cadence was navigating trauma, and the style mirrored that: metaphors, repetition, strange fairy tales woven through the pages. Her voice was poetic, but emotionally distant.

The show didn’t try to replicate her rhythm word-for-word. instead, it trusted the audience to feel what Cadence couldn’t say out loud. Blurry visuals, jarring silences, broken memories - the confusion wasn’t narrated, it was shown. We didn’t need voiceovers to know how hollow she felt. we watched her fall apart, and it hit harder because of how quietly it happened.

Take the Quiz: Which Generation Matches Your Personality?

Discover the generation you truly belong to!

The Liars became real people:

With all the tension, the book sometimes felt rushed, moving rapidly through time and neglecting its characters and relationships that could have been great and layered. Mirren, Johnny, and even Gat - the core group of "liars" - often felt like underdeveloped entities, like symbols rather than real people. On purpose, Cadence's narration was fractured to resemble her disorientation, but some of the story's weight got lost in its presentation: at times, the style took away from the heart of the tale.

Image credit: Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

The island wasn't just a backdrop:

The most memorable thing, however, was the potrayal of the island presented by the show. It was no longer treated as a mere backdrop; beauty and tension pulsed through it. Everything looked perfect from afar until you begin to grasp the ugly reality lurking somewhere below.

The visuals added one thing the book failed to offer: the creeping sense of dread. And when the truth finally emerged, all the more heartbreaks felt heavier - the loss of the characters felt more real and more devastating.

Image credit: Christian Alvarez on Unsplash

The show wasn't centered on Cadence:

The show took the luxury of dwelling on what was at the core of the Sinclair family: the generational trauma passing on through behavioral cues, economic consequences, and manipulation. The very unspoken family rules became palpable imperatives, and the obsession with control and image came alive in stolen glances and clenched jaws, the long pauses between forced smiles. The victim here was not solely Cadence; the show made it clear that silence and repression seeped into everyone.

Time gave the story weight:

E. Lockhart's novel was ambitious, and the final reveal always struck a powerful chord within those who experienced it. But the show, in a way, created atmosphere and depth for something the book barely had time for: just enough world-building for the story to settle, to let the emotional blow land, and for the audience to sit with what had just happened.

I would still fondly look at the book as being bold, different, and memorable. But the show made that story full circle. It didn't just translate We Were Liars for the screen - it gave it a new dimension, new weight, and a new clarity.

And sometimes, that's all stories need.