For today’s blog, I’m going to try to review the book I finished at 6:15 this morning. But I can’t tell you what the book is because I don’t want the spoilers to give it away. So, what’s the point? There isn’t one, really. This is just a fancy way of venting.
First of all, HEA, PEOPLE (that’s “happily ever after” for the romantically challenged). I’m allergic to non-HEA’s! It’s in my medical records. Go ahead, see for yourself. My daughter’s allergic to shrimp—she breaks out in a rash and stops breathing. Well, same here! I read a non-HEA and my face turns red. I tremble, and I can’t breathe. Snot flies out of my nose. Loud gasping noises escape my throat.
And it’s happening right now.
At 10:28 a.m.
And there are only 3 cures:
- A Josh Duhamel marathon (minus Safe Haven, When in Rome, Life as We Know It, The Romantics…scratch that. Make that a Transformersmarathon.)
- Alcohol. It’s now only 10:33 a.m., so I’d have to wait at least another hour and 27 minutes.
- A voodoo doll of the person who recommended this book to me. (Ashley, how are you feeling right now? A bit prickly?)
So, what do you do when you read an awesome book that makes you bitterly angry? Is it still a good book? Is it fair to give it a crappy review? A crappy rating? It’s not the writer’s fault you didn’t like the way things turned out. Is it?
Maybe it is. (Let’s not get me started on Carnage: The Story of Us…)
I LOVE books that make me cry! But ONLY if I’m smiling when it ends. And I’m NOT smiling!!
The “feels” in this book are prevalent. The reader slowly makes it to the Summit of Swoon…only to be pushed off and sent barreling down the other side. IMMEDIATELY. And that’s my issue! I finally make it to the good part, and WHAM! Can’t you give me at least a couple chapters of utter bliss before you rip my heart out?
My shrimp-avoiding daughter, who usually “hates” reading, would probably love this book (she’s not allergic to non-HEA’s like her mother). She actually loved that little book by Ohnjay Eengray (I don’t want to give that one away either). Kill off the main character, and she’ll give the author a thumbs up. I, on the other hand, may give the author a heads up—right before I punch him in his f’ing face.
Sorry, I’m digressing.
The pacing in this book is brilliant (as a writer, it’s enviable). The relationship evolves gradually. It’s realistic. Even if it’s bullshit.
Character development? Spot on. I fell in love with the characters. Even then annoying ones. Except Atricksay.
So back to the sticky plot…unlike Carnage, I can kinda see why this ending is necessary. There. I said it. Happy? But I still don’t have to like it. (It’s fiction!!! A fictional, maybe not-so-believable, ride off into the sunset, puppies and unicorns, happy ending never hurt anybody!)
Rumor has it, a movie is in the works. Will I go see it? Of course. Chances are, the filmmakers will add the fluff I so desperately wanted from the book—to the chagrin of the die-hards—even though they’ll probably keep the original ending (please note sarcasm).
I also can’t wait to kick back at the Drafthouse with my bucket-o-beer and watch the unsuspecting theater-goers fall to pieces in front of me. You know, the hand-holders on date night who think, “Hey, let’s see this. It looks cute.” Good luck suckers!
So, what’s the final consensus on the book I shan’t name? It’s good. Really good. And I hate it.