I’m fairly certain A Grown Up Kind of Pretty ended up on my TBR after an Instagram “drive-by” of sorts where I noticed someone I follow loved it and tI’m fairly certain A Grown Up Kind of Pretty ended up on my TBR after an Instagram “drive-by” of sorts where I noticed someone I follow loved it and then I thought to myself “hey, Joshilyn Jackson – I’ve liked her stuff before” so I requested it from the library and then kept it (unread, natch) for so long it became overdue and I wasn’t allowed to renew it anymore. Yesterday it was 70 degrees and beautiful outside, I had the house to myself and once I had quite literally mopped myself out the door and onto the deck I figured I’d give it a shot, knowing if it wasn’t for me I would have to return it today and remind myself I’m a reading failure.
I’m happy to report that did not happen and instead I read this puppy cover-to-cover while soaking up some Vitamin D. I’m also happy to say at this point I would not hesitate to recommend this author to anyone who follows me and is interested in books about family with just a titch of mystery thrown in to the mix to keep things interesting.
The story here is about three generations of Slocumb women. “Big” (and can I just say shame on the blurb for referring to this character as “Jenny” rather than her actual name “Ginny”), her daughter Liza (“Little”) and granddaughter Mosey are all simply trying to hold it together after Liza has a debilitating stroke at only 30 years old. That’s how things go for the Slocumbs, though. Every 15 years like clockwork some misfortune befalls the family. Generally it’s in the form of an unplanned pregnancy, but both Big and Little have been doing their best to terrify Mosey about all things that may come along with inviting a penis into her life. But when Liza’s beloved willow tree is uprooted in order to install a pool that will hopefully aid in the physical therapy required to get kick her rehabilitation into high gear, a tiny unmarked grave is revealed making both Big and Mosey question everything about what they thought they knew about their family. And Little’s inability to explain things certainly isn’t helping.
Like I said, I read this sucker from start to finish and only stopped for refills of sweet tea (duh) and to use the potty. I fell in love with each of these women and was bummed when my time with them ended. I’m giving it every Star because I wouldn’t change a dingly dang thing about this story and I’m so happy this author has a backlist for me to fall back on whenever I need a guaranteed winner. ...more
The note to myself on my Kindle regarding The Writing Retreat was “this should be called how James Patterson writes his books.” Apologies to any ride-The note to myself on my Kindle regarding The Writing Retreat was “this should be called how James Patterson writes his books.” Apologies to any ride-or-die Patterson fans, but this one did a whole lot of nothing for me . . . . especially since the big “twist” has become an overused trope the past several years.
If I had known this was a recommendation from the BookTok world I would like to think I would have known enough to stay far away, buu
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It me!
If I had known this was a recommendation from the BookTok world I would like to think I would have known enough to stay far away, buuuuuuuuut I did not and I’m a sucker for the cartoony cover so of course I read it. And here’s the thing. There’s nothing wrong with this book. If you love fake dating/friends to lovers/sportsball tropes, PG-13 smexuals and a what you see is what you get cutesie type of story, this one is probably for you. However, it’s becoming apparent the more romances I read lately that I want some more meat on the bones when it comes to plot. Old age – she’s a bitch, kids! This might have hit better for me had I been poolside getting my tan on during the summer rather than enduring never-ending Midwestern winter, but I have no sense and request all the things from the library and have to read them when my turn comes around.
This book is the prime example of why I try not to be a blurb reader. The comparison to The Devil Wears Prada had me adding my name to the library waiThis book is the prime example of why I try not to be a blurb reader. The comparison to The Devil Wears Prada had me adding my name to the library waiting list immediately. Then I read it and the only thing to say is . . . .
I was terrified I was going to be called out as some “unwoke” “Karen” “Boomer” sort of killjoy, but luckily the barely over 3.00 Goodreads’ rating confirms I was most likely not the wrongreader this time.
Talk about the most cringey cringefest that ever cringed. This was truly awful.
First, you have the characters. Not one was likeable or had any redeeming qualities. Dollar Store Andi bitched about having to reconcile receipts for expense reimbursements when her G.D. job was an assistant. Her sister bitched about being blacklisted in the event planning world after being caught fucking a client’s husband in the bathroom – but it was his fault since she didn’t know he was married. Bitch, please. You banged a dude while on the job and you think it’s unfair people wouldn’t want to hire you???
Second, speaking of jobs. Noora (Dollar Store Andi), as mentioned above, is hired as an assistant to Dollar Store Meredith, but wants to be a writer. Loretta (Dollar Store Meredith) tells her she’s allowed to keep writing her personal blog, but not allowed to write for other publications. That makes total sense to me, but there are things called Noncompete Agreements and our little dumbass would have to sign one in order for anything Loretta said to be enforceable. Also, Noncompetes generally don’t count when it is THE COMPANY YOU ALREADY WORK AT. Has this author ever had a job? Or talked to anyone who had one?
Third, more about Loretta and every other character who were so insultingly tone deaf. This book takes place in the present. I’m fairly certain everyone (but especially those in the fashion industry) are well aware that wearing kimono to work or putting chopsticks in your hair is not okay. Nor is saying it’s okay that you are gentrifying Chinatown because you’re poor so it doesn’t count. JFC.
Fourth, have sex with whoever you want, but dude straight up is a walking billboard for he’s just not that in to you – then he Drillbit Taylors you for like 2.4 nanoseconds (of course, at work because these heifers are trifling), isn’t aware that’s bad, doesn’t know how to get you off, but you conveniently know there’s a fucking vibrator in the beauty closet (ewww), you have to teach him how it works, then he STILL says he don’t really like you but the next time you see him your vagina starts “pulsating.” Sorry, have to go barf now.
And finally, for someone supposedly born and bred in NYC, her references are straight up tourist shit. Every mention of a restaurant or location was something out of a guidebook. Actual New Yorkers will tell you they would never go to these places.
I really try to not give out 1 Stars, but not only would I not recommend this to someone, I would actively discourage anyone from reading it. It’s a total waste of time and completely vapid. Trolls – I will delete and block you. Don’t even think about telling me I’m not allowed to have my opinion on this pile of garbage. ...more
If you know me you know I’m a sucker for the cutesie cartoon cover. While in hell at Sam’s Club this weekend I saw this one the rack amongst the sea oIf you know me you know I’m a sucker for the cutesie cartoon cover. While in hell at Sam’s Club this weekend I saw this one the rack amongst the sea of CoHo moneygrabs “re-releases” and wasn’t familiar with it. So I did something I don’t generally do and read the blurb. Now let me tell you, the forced roommate trope is one that rarely fails me. Especially when it’s 100% platonic and then they end up in an awkward bathroom or middle of the night kitchen situation like so . . . . ….
I immediately logged on to the library app to check this out on the Kindle only to discover there were 94 people in line before me. But the paperback was available for instant gratification so we headed downtown.
As I said - the roommate trope is one I love, but this didn’t up being a cohabitation story, it was “let me take you on fake dates to cure your writer’s block.” Boooooo you whore! That’s not what I wanted and the fact these two had zero chemistry didn’t help matters. Hopefully I’ll enjoy The Spanish Love Deception more when I get around to reading that one.
At just a little over 200 pages with conversational delivery style and vignettes that are generally only a page or two, The World Record Book of RacisAt just a little over 200 pages with conversational delivery style and vignettes that are generally only a page or two, The World Record Book of Racist Stories is one I flew right through in no time at all. If you were worried this follow up to You’ll Never Believe What Happened to Lacey couldn’t match the original, rest assured it most certainly does. I mean, America is nothing if not a land of plenty when it comes to tales of bigotry!
Following the footsteps of its predecessor, this time the entire Ruffin family contributes their most racist stories – not just Lacey. And just like its predecessor every entry is cringe at best and horrifying at worst. I read this rather than listened to it simply for the fact that I’m still eleven millionth in line for the audio, but if you are an enjoyer of the audiobook that is the way to go. Amber is literally a comedian, after all, so the comedic timing is *chef’s kiss* . . . .
. . . every time Mom would come to JCPenney in this cape, they’d follow her. She’d buy whatever merchandise she came to buy and walk out to the van and every time, there was a guy watching her who had followed her out to the parking lot waiting to see if she took out anything from her shirt. I asked her if she ever took out two middle fingers and showed him those. I got in trouble.
At the end of the book Lacey and Amber say . . .
If you’ve made it to this point you have now been bestowed with the power to pass out your very own Racist Awards. So put on your evening dress or top hat and make your voice heard!
So here we go with some moments in history I’ve witnessed from my bajillion years in the workplace:
1. Eleventy thousand times a black person was “complimented” for “being so articulate” – and mind you they are all attorneys so double WTF at that comment; 2. Eleventy thousand and two times someone had to answer questions about their hair; 3. Eleventy thousand and three emails about diversity when one Black person and one gay person are gainfully employed at this bigass company; 4. When they tried to diversify and hire a Hawaiian attorney (whose name was not difficult to pronounce/was spelled pretty much 100% phonetically but will not be printed here because she didn’t sign up to be a part of my mess) and old white man #412 said “what’s her name? Tsunami?” And then called her Tsunami at least a dozen times; 5. When the 800 year old attorney wanted to take a new associate to his old man club because “it would be impressive that he was friends with a colored person.” OMG to infinity and also, you ain’t friends m-effer – he and everyone else in the office is forced to be nice to you; 6. When the company did a celebrity look-alike PowerPoint during Staff Appreciation and as soon as a black employee’s face popped on screen you were hoping it wasn’t going to be G.D. Hattie McDaniel like in this book. The comparison was to Regina King, which would be a compliment for sure . . . until you realized they really meant Regina Hall. I guess all Reginas look alike??? Zoinks; 7. When the clerks (who are supposed to take overflow work and learn how to climb the corporate ladder) got recruited to scrub office furniture that had just came out of storage – mad props to the Black clerk being brave enough to stand up for herself and say NO MA’AM to that noise which was 100% not her job; 8. When two women attending a diversity seminar were set up as an excellent example for lesbian representation . . . and then they had to explain they were sisters not a married couple and they were in the meeting because of their Mexican heritage; 9. Hearing someone say “you know who you remind me of? R KELLY!” ‘Nuff said.
If you could please stop being so cute and coming off as such a nice, friendly person to make it easier for me to avoid your teDear Reese Witherspoon:
If you could please stop being so cute and coming off as such a nice, friendly person to make it easier for me to avoid your terrible book club selections I would really appreciate it. If you can’t do that, then when it comes to the options you select for us to read, I’m telling you . . . . .
So thanks to my mad girl crush on Reese that I’ve had since I was a child and she starred in The Man in the Moon, I can’t resist her siren’s song and her (nearly always) awful book choices. In all honesty, I live in perpetual fear that I will miss out on another Paper Palace which earned a rare 5 Star from me and was one of the best things I read that year. Buuuuuuuuut, most of the time they are pretty crappy and this was no exception.
Obviously The House in the Pines was a had me at hello since it featured not only a house on the cover, but also a house in the name. How could I not immediately want it, right? Then I started reading it and not only do we have a triple whammy of an unreliable narrator (she’s an insomniac . . . because she’s going through Klonopin withdrawal . . . . and she’s boozing to take the edge off/help her go night-night). Again . . . .
Can we just be DONE with the unreliable drunk woman in the window of the train across the street crap at this point? It is suuuuuuuuuuch a dead horse that has been beaten to a pulp.
So anyway, said Girl on the Klonopin is returning to her home town to do some Scooby Doo-ing in regards to a death that was ruled accidental, but which looks very similar to her BFF’s accidental death back in the day – and the kicker is the same feller was present at both of them. For some reason our little boozehound believes this dude will now be coming for her . . . . even though he has made no contact ever . . . .
I knew was the twist was going to be at around the 40% mark – which would maybe be good for me in a thriller since I’m a pretty good Velma myself – but unfortunately it was due to all of the filler rather than any red herrings. The entire storyline regarding the father’s book and everything in Guatemala added absolutely nothing to this book and could have/should have been left on the cutting room floor. Less is almost always more, authors.
Maggie’s marriage is ending only six hundred and eight days after it began (despite being together nearly a decade) . . .
In the movies, you are Diane Lane, or Keaton, or possibly Kruger, a beautiful middle-aged Diane who is her own boss and knows about the good kind of white wine. Usually, you do not continue living with your ex for weeks because you can’t make the rent on your dusty one-bedroom apartment alone. Generally, you are not a glorified research assistant and an advertising copywriter, respectively, whose most important shared financial asset is your one friend who always gets free phones from work. Certainly, you are not supposed to be twenty-eight years old and actively planning a birthday party with the dress code “Jimmy Buffett sluts.”
Looking for love in all the wrong places, continually texting and calling her ex because he said they should keep in touch (and he has their cat Janet, after all) and alienating herself from her friend group for being such a Debbie Downer, she’s having more than a bit of a struggle handling things . . .
From the rating alone, it’s obvious this was NOT for everyone, but oh how I loved it. There’s nothing like making an imperfect fictional friend and this was another example of a “romdramedy” that had me laughing out loud one minute and “bless your heart”-ing Maggie the next.
Oh and if the gifs didn’t clue you in, if you enjoyed Fleabag there’s a solid chance you’ll like this too. ...more
Did I just read this nearly 750 page book in two days? Tell me you’re crazy without telling me you’re crazy. In my defense, I didn’t realize how long Did I just read this nearly 750 page book in two days? Tell me you’re crazy without telling me you’re crazy. In my defense, I didn’t realize how long this was before I requested it from the library. I simply saw B.E.E. had a new release and Mitchell said he would hurt me if I didn’t get it immediately. I think I was like a billion and a half down the wait list too, but ended up getting this within a week of asking for it so I think it’s safe to say others either were intimidated by the sheer volume or realized pretty darn quickly this wasn’t for them and returned it. And to whoever you are I say THANK YOU for letting me get my grubby little mitts on it post haste.
Now on to the book. Simply put, this is about . . . .
“the memories I had of the Trawler and more specifically of Robert Mallory.”
Written as a nonfiction narrative, this one is for the Bret Easton Ellis superfan. I mean, if you ever wanted to crawl around inside this fella’s brain, The Shards is the one for you! After finishing I did a Google to see what was said about this “true story” before it was released and I am amazed at how many people were duped. Dear Dummies: YOU LITERALLY HAVE A COMPUTER ATTACHED TO YOUR HAND ALMOST ALL THE TIME. It’s not hard to find out these cases didn’t actually happen. Not to mention he is an author who previously wrote a “true story” about fucking vampires. And also . . .
I was a storyteller and I liked decorating an otherwise mundane incident that maybe contained one or two facts that made it initially interesting to be retold in the first place but not really, but adding a detail or two that elevated the story into something legitimately interesting to the listener and gave it humor or surprise or shock, and this came naturally to me. These weren’t lies exactly – I just preferred the exaggerated version.
I just found out this was initially released as a serial story – new entries were written every two weeks and read by Ellis himself on his podcast. My first reaction to that? Oh yeah, I would have read the crap out of this as a serial. Followed immediately by, ewwwww, B.E.E. even YOU have a podcast?
With that knowledge now is the time to disclose that while I’m the first to say “don’t you have an editor?!?!?!?!” – on this occasion I’m giving a pass – because there literally was no editor nor any intention that this would be released as a physical book when it was initially created.
But I wasn’t kidding when I said this is for the superfan. Basically it reads like a high school journal written by someone with extreme literary chops and covers Bret Easton Ellis’ senior year at Buckley in 1981. Ellis more than dabbles in sex (both of the hetero and nonhetero varieties) and drugs, works on his debut novel Less Than Zero, finds himself a member of the “me too” movement nearly 40 years prior to its time and develops a bit of an obsession with the new boy in school who he believes might just be a serial killer. Oh, and also? It is QUINTESSENTIALLY 1980s. We’re talking popped collars, Topsiders, ray bans and a detailing of every single song that was playing at any moment throughout his days. It certainly is not a book for everyone, but it was most definitely for me. All the Stars.
Whistling tunes we hide in the dunes by the seaside . . . . ...more
You know what’s better than picking up a romance book in February? Picking up a book you think is going to be a romance book that ends up being soooooYou know what’s better than picking up a romance book in February? Picking up a book you think is going to be a romance book that ends up being sooooooo much more. I’ve enjoyed Mhari McFarlane enough that as soon as I see one of her titles I automatically want it. No blurb reading necessary whatsoever. At the start, things seemed like they were going to go in one direction . . .
My Best Friend’s Wedding might’ve been a funny film but relieving its plot doesn’t feel funny in the slightest.
But I’m so happy to report this was not your typical tired trope.
Since I went into this one blind, I’m going to keep this real short and sweet and not spoil things for any of the rest of you (especially as I’ve just read the actual book blurb and the storyline isn’t spelled out there either). If you enjoy stories about friend groups, simply know that Eve, Justin, Susie and Ed are probably people you would like to hang out with in real life – be aware that the romance is simply a blip on the radar – have a hankie ready if you are not a robot and can have actual human feelings – and also be prepared to chuckle a time or two . . .
“Was it me, or was there some hateration and holleration in this dancery?”
In my own defense please note that I just recently five starred My Favorite Half Night Stand and, although I’m only about 20 pages in, I have a feeling I’m also going to love Just Last Night. Buuuuuuuuut, three stars is about the norm for me when it comes to romances – especially when they follow the typical formula of:
1. Meet cute 2. Immediate hatred but total sexual attraction 3. Do the shibibiddy dibiddy – typically with squicky sex talk or a horrid pet name – in this case “hotness” . . . .
4. Miscommunication/failure to communicate/undisclosed secret gets revealed that causes a third act breakup 5. Make Up 6. Engagement/marriage/whoopsie baby (stars are deducted for accident babies – ain’t nobody got time for that)
There you have it. This was just okay for me. If you know me you know I often don’t read blurbs (especially if there’s a house on the cover). I just assumed this would be a battle of him/her house flippers and even upon starting I thought I was correct. That was not the case and what plot there was simply didn’t cut the mustard for me. And again, HOTNESS?
First things first, even the blurb on this is B.S. Lily and Christian and Jake and Nina weren’t “close” friends. Lily and Nina were freaking work frieFirst things first, even the blurb on this is B.S. Lily and Christian and Jake and Nina weren’t “close” friends. Lily and Nina were freaking work friends and every once in a while their husbands would be forced into mingling. So now that’s out of the way, the whole premise here is that Jake has gone missing and Lily thinks she might have done a bad bad thing.
Let’s just get right down to the nitty gritty, shall we? Mary Kubica has become sort of a household name over the past few years when it comes to modern mystery/suspense/thrillers and yet somehow I’ve only read a couple of her offerings. After finishing this one I’m wondering was her writing style always this clipped? And awful? The short sentences, repetition of phrases, and unecessary details were more than a bit jarring to the moldy block of Swiss cheese which is my brain.
Here’s an example . . . .
“…the other night, before we lay down in bed, Lily watched me close and lock it, and then she just barely nodded as if agreement it was the prudent thing to do. It’s not exactly a robust lock; any little screwdriver can pop the lock. But what I like about it, and what Lily likes about it, is that there is a barrier between us and the unknown when we’re out cold. Popping the lock or rattling the door handle would make a sound and wake us.”
Is that how locks work? Please tell me more as I are an uneducated dummkopf. Not to mention this is such riveting material that how could I possibly get enough????
Another (and I’m not typing this crap because it goes on for like THREE MUTHA EFFIN PAGES!) . . .
Just make sure you have your insurance card in your purse and enough money in your bank account to cover the co-pay when you have to go get your stomach pumped.
Once again I praise the tiny 8 lb. 6 oz. baby jesus (can’t even say a word) who blessed me with a superhuman reading speed and also the fact that this was dialogue heavy. That being said, I would still give this zero stars if I could....more
No, not that one. The Keep It Simple (for Stupids like me) method. A Mother Would Know had the page turnability factor already going for it with the dead neighbor, the secret regarding another neighborhood girl from the past, the son who potentially could be linked to both and the house on the cover . . . .
I had zero clue if the goings on were coincidental, or who really was the culprit. Buuuuuuut when you have not only the whodunit, but also the potentially early onset Alzheimer’s and all the talk about being a lead singer in a band (with bonus Ted Talky content regarding public opinion of mothers who don’t follow the June Cleaver mold annnnnnnd the husband annnnnnnnnd the former bandmate), annnnnnnnnnnnd also some other extra narrative about “Andie” thrown in (that eventually does make sense but not until nearly the end so it’s a bit jarring when it interrupts the flow of the rest of the story). Oh, and also there’s maybe a ghost child in the house. I think you might have meant to include this as well, Amber Garza . . . .
All of those additions made what could have maybe been a 4 Star read suffer a bit in the ratings department due to all the muddying of the waters. Luckily the writing was pretty straightforward and the MAIN story moved along at a pace quick enough to keep me interested despite the distractions.
When I was pulling my Hiassens out of the hoard off the shelf for a pic to post on The ‘Gram it occurred to me that despite owning nearly everything hWhen I was pulling my Hiassens out of the hoard off the shelf for a pic to post on The ‘Gram it occurred to me that despite owning nearly everything he’s written, I sure haven’t read very many of them. Good news for me should the zombie uprising ever occur! Hiassen may or may not be a familiar name to you, but if you’re a Boomer you may be familiar with this moment in film history . . . .
His books are sort of formulaic in that there are about eleventy-twelve characters and storylines who all become interconnected at some point whilst trying to figure out a fairly easy to solve a mystery. Said mystery always leans toward the zany, and take place in . . . . .
He gets razzed for writing not-so-great female characters, but really all of his characters aren’t super well developed since there are a bounty of them. In real life I imagine him as a die-hard Parrothead, but that may just be me projecting.
The story here is about a missing octogenarian socialite named Kiki Pew who went missing at one of the many galas held down the road from the Winter White House, a Burmese python with a suspicious bulge, the owner of Descreet Captures, bumbling criminals, a fornicating First Lady, callbacks to Skink, a tanning bed from hell and a President who is all about making sure the public knows . . . .
Sooooooo I requested the library to buy this book like six months ago because I was so sure I would love it after reading A Flicker in the Dark …. and then I looked at my review and noticed I gave that one 2 Stars. Apparently I rewrote history in my own brain.
However, due to my diligent publication stalking I was first in line on release day and figured what they heck - going in completely blind. All I knew was the cover was pretty and the title was pretty meh (stand behind that - the title doesn’t even go with the content). Then I started and realized it was a kidnapping tale and ….
Yeah, that’s not usually my idea of a great time. Buuuuut I’m no quitter so I kept calm and carried on.
I’m going to be real upfront and say this was some rough going at the beginning. Overly descriptive “purple” prose detailing the mundane is most certainly NOT my jam. It’s a good thing I’m not a DNFer and read fast so my suffering was fairly short lived because around the 20% point Willingham started finding her rhythm. I’m happy to report that the various timelines ended up being quality rather than a distraction, there weren’t nonsensical additives such as a random romance or too much sideline sleuthery and the big reveal(s) was especially satisfactory. ...more
What does it take to make you add a book to your TBR? All that was necessary for me here was the title. I’m not going to lie a
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Ha! Too late!
What does it take to make you add a book to your TBR? All that was necessary for me here was the title. I’m not going to lie and present myself as the biggest Prince fan that ever lived, but I will tell you I got grounded when my mother heard me singing along to Darling Nicky and I totally pulled a swappy-swap at the video store and slipped the Purple Rain VHS tape in another benign movie’s case in order to sneak watch it when I was just a wee young'un. When I saw this cover I was all in – no blurb reading, no ratings gandering, nada. And in an attempt at full disclosure, I’ll tell you I just assumed this was going to be a YA book.
But I was WRONG! So I had just finished a Kristin Higgins book a couple of days before and had told my husband how a good Chick Lit really warms the cackles of my heart, but it’s sometimes hard to find said good ones and I tend to not read the same genre back to back. Then I picked this puppy up and . . . .
It’s just a typical weekday for Ramona – well, aside from the Category 4 hurricane currently churning out in the Atlantic, her work/life balance being a constant struggle and the fact that she just walked into her kitchen midday to find her husband in his unders and Sarah Ellen from the school drop-off/pick-up line taking the last coconut La Croix from the fridge all decked out in her cowboy boots post coitus.
I did a quick brain adjustment from thinking this was going to be about too-cool-for-school teenie boppers and the realization that the sun truly does occasionally shine on a dog’s butt that I was going to get my wish of another potential winner in the #cluckcluck category.
And oh what a winner it was. I absolutely ADORED Ramona and her children (and I like kids in books about once per year so sucks to be every other thing I read in 2023). I also hate most all adults in real life, but I’m telling you this gal could be my best friend if she weren’t fictional. The bits analyzing their marriage were so honest and I cannot remember a time where I laughed so many times out loud while reading.
“All right. Are we finished pretending like you could forgive Desmond for his lying cheating cold dead beatin’ two-time double-dealing mean mistreating loving heart – “
“Patty Loveless? Respect.”
“Earned all this money but they’ll never take the country out me.”
“Rihanna”
“Beyoncè. Sweat Jesus, what has happened to you?”
“I know. I know!”
Don’t let the crap Goodreads’ rating fool you. Bunch of haters around this joint! I’m blown away that this was a debut novel, and I’m telling you I’ll pick up whatever Carolyn Prusa wants to put down. Every Star! Take it sleazy, y’all. ...more
I forgot I even requested a copy of this from library when it was long listed for the Booker Prize, but when my turn finally came around an
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I forgot I even requested a copy of this from library when it was long listed for the Booker Prize, but when my turn finally came around and I saw how short it was I figured what the heck.
A kid (assuming Jack’s a kid since he reads comics and plays marbles all day) trades a lamb bone for an empty jar of “Poor Man’s Friend” and a donkey stone (WTF is that? Sounds like a name my hillbilly kin would come up with for a petrified turd out in a pasture). Either one or a combo of the two give Jack new sight - where his favorite comic book characters come to life.
Okay, so I didn’t get it - and please do not attempt to mansplain it to me. The Booker Prize is my white whale. I attempt to read a few every year – most of the time I’m not smart enough to understand what made them so potentially award worthy and occasionally I find something special (*cough Percival Everett cough*) ...more
I didn’t want to review this book until I had finally watched the Prime Movie version – which I finally got around to this weekend. You see, the premiI didn’t want to review this book until I had finally watched the Prime Movie version – which I finally got around to this weekend. You see, the premise of the print version was sure to be an absolutely adorable romcom: two different fellas are shopping at . . . .
One for a generic Christmas present for his girlfriend, the other for the Queen Mary of all Tiffany’s gifts for his. They find their bags doing the ol’ swippy swappy during an accident. Then it’s all about how to correct that epic boo-boo while realizing maybe who they thought was “the one” actually wasn’t until the end when . . . .
Like I said, super cute premise, but the book left a lot to be desired. Mainly it was the pacing. The story moved at a snail’s slog only to really ramp up to 100MPH at the very end. The book version also had me feeling super sorry for the intended recipient of the ring for most of the story as well. She really needed to be presented as a bad choice right from the beginning in order for this idea to work. Good news is, the movie version was just as cute as I hoped it would be and while Reese Witherspoon’s book club selections often leave me shaking my head, she (and her production company) are real good at the screen versions of romcoms. Maybe skip the book and just watch this one instead....more
Kelly (and the Book Boar)
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Books:
liburrrrrry-book
(1312)
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