Review: The Brightest Star (by Gail Tsukiyama)

My Rating:  2.5 stars



I had read Gail Tsukiyama's previous novel,The Color of Air, and absolutely loved it!  With that book, I was captivated by the beautiful, atmospheric writing as well as the emotionally poignant story that I sometimes still think about even now.  So of course, when I learned that Tsukiyama would have a new novel out — and it would be about one of the most important trailblazers for entertainers of Chinese descent in Hollywood, Anna May Wong — I was, of course, excited beyond words.  Not surprisingly, I had high expectations going into this one and was expecting to love it as much as I did Tsukiyama's previous work. Sadly, that didn't turn out to be the case, as this book ended up being a huge letdown.  My first thought when I finished this book was that it couldn't have been written by the same author as The Color of Air, as the writing style and execution here stood in such stark contrast, it honestly baffled me.  

One of the biggest problems I had with this book was the way that the story was told. Narrated from Anna May Wong's first person point of view, the story starts off in 1960, when Anna May is making a comeback from semi-retirement and is on a train across the country for a press tour to promote her latest film.  She brings with her a stack of notebooks where she has written down her life story and as she starts reading them on the train ride, the timeline switches to 1913, when Anna May is 8 years old.  From there, she takes us pretty much year-by-year through every aspect of her life, from when she was a child who would sneak off to watch movies, to her early days in Hollywood, to the height of her career and the last days of her life.  In the process, every single movie that Anna May had been in — whether as an extra or with a significant role — is covered in great detail (in addition to basic movie facts such as who the director was, the names of the cast members, where and when the movie premiered, the reactions from audiences and critics, etc., there were also details on how she got each part, what led up to it, how she was treated and how she felt, what the aftermath was, etc. etc.)  Normally, first person narrative wouldn't be a problem, but in this instance, the voice was incredibly stilted and devoid of emotion — to the point that I felt like I was reading a long-form Wikipedia entry of Anna May's life (except told in first person). Also, the way nearly every acting venture and personal milestone in Anna May's life was recounted chronologically, and in exhaustive detail, made the story feel repetitive and tedious — I felt like I was reading about the same things over and over and over again, just with different people involved (and sometimes in different cities).  I actually started to get bored about half way through the book and resorted to skimming whole sections so I could get to the end faster.

Another problem was that this story did not read like historical fiction at all.  While it was obvious that Tsukiyama did a lot of research on Anna May's life, the way the information was presented felt like I was reading a history book, which definitely did not work for me.  I hate to say it, but the lack of emotion and atmospheric nuance (which I expect in historical fiction) made it feel to me as though the author simply took all the notes she had, organized it chronologically, changed the voice to first person, put in a prologue and epilogue, and voila, a retrospective of Anna May's life in book format. 

To me, this book was a missed opportunity. Executed differently, this story had the potential to be a powerful expose of the entertainment industry and the way it treated/still treats people of color.  It also had the potential to be a moving story about a fascinating woman of color who struggled pretty much her entire career (and life) to gain acceptance into a notoriously misogynistic, biased, unforgiving industry — and the sacrifices she had to make in order to pave the way for other Asian entertainers who would come after.  Instead, we got a robotic, paint-by-numbers recounting of Anna May's life that lacked emotional depth — plus I felt like most of the information in this book, with the way it was presented, I could've gotten myself by spending a few hours searching the internet, which honestly adds to the disappointment.

Since I've enjoyed Tsukiyama's previous works, I hope this book was an anomaly and that her next one will go back to the style that I'm used to seeing from her.  

Received ARC from HarperVia via NetGalley.

Review: The Museum of Ordinary People (by Mike Gayle)



My Rating:  2.5 stars



When I first read the premise of Mike Gayle's latest novel The Museum of Ordinary People, I was quite intrigued by the idea of a museum that collected keepsakes and mementos — things that people didn't want to throw away, but also weren't able to keep either.  This story arc was definitely an interesting one and indeed, the chapters that talked about the museum — how it came about, the history behind some of the items, the backstories of the people who donated the items, etc. — were the strongest.  Unfortunately though, much of the rest of the story was bogged down by various threads that I felt were irrelevant, unnecessary and distracted from the main arc — for example, all of the chapters devoted to the main protagonist Jess Baxter clearing out her mum's house, room by room — which had the effect of dragging out the already slow-paced story to the point of being nearly unbearable. 

I also was annoyed by the thread involving Jess's relationship with her boyfriend Guy. Right from the start, the dynamics of their relationship felt off and it was already pretty obvious the direction that the relationship was headed (that they wouldn't be together in the end) — which was why, as the story progressed, I got increasingly frustrated with how their relationship continued to drag on, with both Jess and Guy coming up with one "justification" after another for why they should remain together.  And then when the split finally happened, it was done in a way that honestly made no sense (not to mention it ticked me off how Jess was portrayed throughout that entire scene — specifically having her grovel and take all the blame with no mention of the role that Guy's atrocious behavior played in the whole mess).

Speaking of Jess, I felt like the way her character was written was very inconsistent throughout the story, to the point that it was hard for me to connect with her at all.  It seemed like one minute, she would exude confidence and stand up for herself but then the next minute she would become a doormat and second guess herself at every turn. Basically, she came across as being all over the place due to her behavior and actions being contradictory throughout various parts of the story.  

In addition to the characters being problematic, the writing was also repetitive in places (for example - the word "anyway" was repeated at so many points in the story that I lost count after the first couple chapters), there was way too much “telling” rather than “showing” (the writing actually came off awkward in places), and the plot was a bit too contrived for my liking (there were some "twists" added near the end that were convenient but unnecessary in my opinion).  

Overall, I would say that this was an okay read that I think would've been a more effective story if it had focused on the original premise of the museum rather than branching off into other tangents.  The narrative meandered too much and there were too many instances where I felt like I had to skim through tedious bits in order to get back to the parts that mattered (the scenes involving the museum). As I seem to be an outlier on this one though, I would recommend checking out other reviews as well, just in case.

Received ARC from Grand Central Publishing via NetGalley.

Review: The Golden Doves (by Martha Hall Kelly)



My Rating: 2.5 stars

For the second time this month, looks like I am once again an outlier who didn't like a book written by a popular author that everyone else seemed to really enjoy.  In both instances, the reasons why I disliked the books were very similar, even though the genres, styles, and story lines were completely different (more on this later).  The interesting thing is that, with both authors, I had read previous books by them and had enjoyed those immensely, but their newest releases I disliked to the point of nearly breaking my own rule and giving them the DNF treatment (in the end, I hung on, but barely, since I had to resort to skimming large sections of both books in order to get through them).  It's also possible that the previous books were also problematic, but I didn't notice at the time, and now having evolved as a reader, I'm perhaps more critical of things that maybe didn't bother me before.  Either way, both experiences have made me realize that I need to be even more selective with the books I decide to pick up (not that I wasn't selective before, as I've always been a lot pickier than most people I know when it comes to this stuff) – basically, I have enough to deal with in my life at the moment and I really don't want to add "frustrating reading experience" to it if I can help it…

 

Before I talk specifics about what bothered me with this particular book, I have to say that I did read Martha Hall Kelly's previous Lilac Girls series and thought those books were really well done – which is why I'm completely baffled as to how Kelly's newest release, The Golden Doves, ended up on the absolute opposite end of the spectrum for me.  Initially, going into this book, I was actually expecting to like it, not only because I had enjoyed Kelly's previous works, but also because the genre is historical fiction (which is my favorite genre) and the premise really did sound interesting:  two former female spies (the titular 'golden doves') who endured unspeakable atrocities during World War II join forces once again after the war is over to heroically take down a bunch of Nazi fugitives who had evaded justice.  Given this description, I assumed that I would be getting a thrilling, fast-paced espionage story with two strong, kickass female protagonists at its center (yes, a la Kate Quinn, whose works I adore).  Well, friends, that assumption was dead wrong!  What I ended up getting instead was a plot hole-filled, unnecessarily draggy, poorly-written, boring (I could keep going with the negative adjectives, but I will stop here) story featuring two naïve, immature, annoying-as-hell, frustratingly pathetic (which, believe it or not, is an understatement) female protagonists who were so stereotypically written, it's not even funny.  I mean, literally all you need to know is that Josie Anderson is American and Arlette LaRue is French – those identities essentially drive the entire story in that they dictate how the two women act, think, talk throughout much of this (unnecessarily long 500+ page) book. With Arlette especially, we are reminded time and time again throughout the entire story, both directly and indirectly, that she is a French woman (which to me, felt like the author was trying to use that to justify why Arlette behaves the way she does — namely, the constant flirting with men and always having to come across as 'sexy' and 'sensual').  And yes, both women were utterly unconvincing as spies – sure, it can be argued that both were recruited as teenagers (though this already doesn't make sense because why them??) so of course they would be immature, but the problem is, nearly a decade later, when they became grownups (both when they are apart and when they reunite), they still conducted themselves in exactly the same immature manner in nearly every circumstance.

 

For me, the biggest issue with this book was the way the characters were written, which can essentially be summarized in two words:  unrealistic and unlikeable.  First, Josie – she works as an agent at U.S. Army Intelligence, but she is impulsive, irrational, and has no sense of awareness or common sense whatsoever (as an example — in one scene, she knows someone is trying to kill her, yet after nearly getting run over, she walks into a hotel room without checking it first, immediately pours herself a drink, leaves her firearm in plain sight on the kitchen counter, then blindly pushes open another door, completely unaware that someone is following her).  Much of her behavior and actions throughout the story don't align with her job -- in fact, several characters she encounters throughout the story outright question whether she was ever trained because she kept doing stupid things.  And that's when she's an adult…as a teenager, she actually does even more ridiculous things, which, of course, is not surprising at that age – what's surprising is why she was chosen to be recruited as a spy in the first place. Of course, this also makes what happens at the end, with her career, entirely unplausible.

 

As far as Arlette goes, I honestly don't even know where to start.  While Josie's story arc was ridiculous but at least somewhat tolerable, Arlette's story arc was absolutely outrageous.  Pretty much all Arlette does for most of the story can be summarized as follows: 1) pine for her son, 2) flirt with every guy she encounters, 3) berate herself for being "pathetic" and "ridiculous" because of how easily she falls for men (especially the handsome ones — though it seems that, according to Arlette and Josie, every man they encounter – and there are plenty in this story -- who isn't a Nazi fugitive is "handsome" or "good-looking" in some way).  As an example of how outrageous and nonsensical Arlette's story arc got — I ended up skim-skipping most of the sections where Arlette was in French Guiana (which was, oh, like a third of the book) because a lot of it was useless fluff that didn't advance the plot much (except near the end), plus I got tired of reading about Arlette lusting after the bodyguard every couple pages (no exaggeration – there were actually scenes where Arlette spies on the guard taking a shower, or her blouse conveniently flies open in his presence somehow, or she's in a bathrobe when he suddenly enters the room for no reason – not to mention all the gratuitous references to the bodyguard's "beautiful eyes" or hot physique or whatnot) — it basically got into "steamy romance" territory, which to me, made absolutely no sense given what the story was supposed to be about.

 

Another thing that irked me about this book was that the entire narrative was written in first person, alternating between the "voices" of Josie and Arlette.  Normally, this would not be too much of a problem, but when both of the main characters are so unlikeable (and problematically written like they were here), to have to hear the story told from their perspective and be subjected to their every ridiculous, outlandish thought – well, let's just say it made this already tedious and frustrating read even more tortuous.  Interestingly enough, the last couple books I read that I didn't like (all new releases) were in the same format – first person point of view narrated by the main protagonist(s).  I noticed this format is used a lot with mysteries and thrillers, which I can understand, as the limited perspective could help build up the air of mystery or suspense in the story, but with historical fiction, it seems like it would be less effective…though I guess at the end of the day, doesn't matter too much as long as it's done correctly, which it obviously wasn't in this case, as it made the entire story sound stilted and awkward.

 

Overall, I was hugely disappointed with this book.  It actually had the potential to be a very powerful, emotional story about the Holocaust and its aftermath, while also shedding light on historical atrocities such as the Lebensborn program, the secret experiments at the concentration camps, the underground network that helped the most heinous of Nazi fugitives evade justice after the war, etc.  Unfortunately, Kelly took the story in an entirely wrong direction with the contrived plot and the ludicrously nonsensical (not to mention unrealistic) characters.  Ironically, the Author's Note at the end of the book actually does a good job of covering the historical details and also provides references for non-fiction books that cover these topics.  I mention this because I'm kicking myself now for wasting my time reading 500+ pages of a story that I disliked when I could've just read the Author's Note and found out everything I needed to know (including the basic plot and the ending, which there are major spoilers for in the Author's Note).   

 

To me, this book was a waste of time, but again, as I mentioned earlier, I'm an outlier with this one so don't just take my word for it.  If you're on the fence about whether to pick this one up or not (with the page count, it's actually quite a time investment), I would recommend checking out other reviews before deciding.

 

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

 

Review: The Soulmate (by Sally Hepworth)

My Rating:  2.5 stars

Before I start, just a quick disclaimer:  I'm one of the outliers who didn't like this book much, so I won't have too many good things to say about it in my review.  If this is going to be an issue for those reading this, then I suggest stopping right here.  Don't say I didn't warn you!

Ok, so here's my unpopular opinion: overall, I really really disliked this book — to the point that I  struggled to write this review because I had trouble choosing which of the myriad of "issues" to rant about.   Below is just a smattering of things I had a problem with (not all-inclusive of course). 

First, the writing, which to me, felt quite different from the previous Sally Hepworth novels I had read.  The writing this time around felt stilted and choppy and a bit elementary if I'm being honest.  There was a lot  of "I did this, then I did that, then I did this" (and by A LOT, I mean pretty much every chapter — there are 87 chapters) — with much of the detail being about unnecessary stuff that had nothing to do with the plot (honestly, does it matter to me that a character 'went to the supermarket, pulled out a cart, walked down the aisle, put stuff in the cart'? Nope!).  What made this worse was that the entire story was told from the first person point of view, so it sounded super awkward to hear the characters describe their own mundane actions (I.e.:"I picked up the laptop, I walked over to the table, I put it down and I opened the lid").  This also made the story feel unnecessarily long and dragged out — which normally wouldn't be a problem except that this is supposed to be a domestic thriller / suspense novel and mundane details like this bog down the plot.

Speaking of the plot, that was another thing that didn't work in this story.  Many of the plot points felt contrived and forced, but what bothered me the most was the ridiculousness of the main character Pippa's story arc — for much of the story, I found myself alternating between wanting to slap Pippa (more on this later) and suspending my disbelief every couple pages at the repeated stupidity of some of the characters' (mostly Pippa's) actions/behaviors/decisions (wait, she swept his behavior under the rug AGAIN?!?!?!).

And that brings me to what irked me the most about this story — the characters, all of whom weren't just unlikable ("loathsome" is probably more accurate), but frustratingly so, to the point that I couldn't bring myself to  feel anything but annoyance with all of them (but especially with Pippa).  The way Pippa's character was written, she felt like a caricature rather than a real person.  It didn't make an ounce of sense to me how Pippa was portrayed as a smart, confident lawyer and doting, assured mother of two young daughters one minute, but the next minute, as soon as her husband Gabe walks into the room, she becomes someone who deliberately buries her head in the sand, ignores all red flags (even the obvious ones that even she herself says are problematic), gets defensive whenever anyone says anything remotely critical about Gabe, second guesses and lies to herself over and over (and over and over and over again), and basically adopts an incredibly naive (not to mention frustratingly stupid and irrational) "I can't live without him so I must turn a blind eye and find excuses for his repeated s**tty behavior regardless of how that negatively impacts me or the kids" attitude.  To be honest, Pippa is exactly the type of nonsensical character that I absolutely cannot stand in any story — basically a twisted variation of the "damsel in distress" archetype but a hundred times more annoying because she is actually capable of "saving" herself and getting herself out of the many bad situations she finds herself in, but she chooses (repeatedly) not to do so, then justifies her decisions / actions with one lame excuse after another.  To me, it seems that even the author Hepworth finds this behavior problematic, as there is a scene near the later part of the book where Pippa's sister Kat confronts Pippa about the irrational way she constantly excuses her husband's behavior/ actions…Kat basically lays into Pippa, asking her point blank "how long [is she] going  to live like this?"  When Pippa gives a by-her-own-admission pathetic response (the exact quote is "A pathetic response, I know, but the only one I have."), Kat replies: "Fine. But I can't support you anymore. Not when you keep acting so damn stupid."  My sentiments (toward Pippa) exactly!!

As I stated earlier, there were a lot of things I disliked about this book and I honestly only touched on a few main ones, but I will stop here.  One thing that I did like was the ending, which I thought was done well, but unfortunately, coming at the tail end of the story, it was "too little, too late."  This was also one of those rare instances where, throughout the entire time I was reading, there were multiple moments that I was tempted to DNF the book (I have a rule about finishing every book I start, which I don't break often, so the fact I felt like DNFing is a big deal for me) — but I ended up plowing through it (albeit painfully).  

I think I will be taking a break from Hepworth's books for the time being, as this one obviously left a bad taste in my mouth and I honestly wasn't too keen on her previous book, The Younger Wife, either (I detailed the reasons why in my review of that book so if you're curious, feel free to check out that review). But then again, this is just me and my specific tastes — I didn't take to this newest book but many others did, so I suggest checking out those reviews as well for a more balanced perspective.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley.

Review: It All Comes Down to This (by Therese Anne Fowler)

My Rating:  2 stars

Therese Anne Fowler is a "new to me" author whose books I've heard good things about but never got a chance to read.  When I heard she had a new book out and I happened to get approved for an ARC, I figured now would be as good a time as any to acquaint myself with Fowler's works. Now having finished this book, I'm thinking I probably should've started with a different book of hers, as this one turned out to be a huge disappointment.

While the premise had sounded interesting, I quickly discovered, a few chapters in, that this book would be different from what I originally expected.  To me, the basic gist of this book could be summed up this way:  a bunch of privileged, self-centered people endlessly try to justify the foolish (and at times downright stupid) life choices / decisions / actions that they may (or may not) regret making.   None of the characters were likable (and that's putting it mildly) — nearly every character was whiny to the point of grating on my nerves and the more they complained about their messy lives (and even messier relationships), the less sympathy I had for any of them.  The only character I was able to tolerate (and probably the only character I didn't find annoying) was 10-year-old Arlo— unfortunately, his scenes were too few and far between.

In terms of the writing — well, let's just say that it left much to be desired.  There were way too many instances where scenes and dialogue were drawn out unnecessarily in what I would call "stating the obvious" type of writing ("he picked up the newspaper, opened it, read it, folded it back up, put it back down" — not a direct quote, but it conveys the general idea) — which, of course, is the type of writing I absolutely cannot stand.  

Basically, I could not get into this one at all — many of the scenes (in fact, the plot in general) felt contrived, the characters were frustratingly whiny, the writing felt stilted and rudimentary — so much so that each time I put the book down, I dreaded picking it back up again.  I did end up finishing this one (I'm the type of reader who finds it extremely hard to DNF a book once I start it), but not without A LOT of skimming through nearly 50% of the book.  While I don't intend to write Fowler off based on this one experience, I'm not necessarily in a rush to read another book of hers yet either, as I need some time to get the bad taste from this one out of my system.  

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley.

Review: The Whispering House (by Elizabeth Brooks)

My Rating: 2 stars

I really wanted to like this book. The premise sounded interesting and based on the little I'd heard about the book, I was anticipating an atmospheric page-turner with serious gothic vibes. Actually, for the first 40-50 pages or so, I felt like this was the case, as the author did a pretty good job of setting the scene and creating intrigue around the house at the center of the story, Bryne Hall. Unfortunately it didn't last — for me, the story started to unravel early on, when the main character Freya Lyell returns to Bryne Hall again after her cousin's wedding and nonsensically inserts herself in the lives of Cory and Diana Bryne. Technically, there wasn't really a plot to speak of, as nothing much happens — but what annoyed me was that the little bit of plot that did happen was far-fetched and unrealistic. This was one of those stories where you pretty much have to suspend disbelief the entire time you're reading, otherwise it's hard to get through. 

 
Normally, I'm okay with lack of plot if the character development is good and I'm able to connect with the characters in some way. Sorry to say, this wasn't the case here — not only was every single character in this story very unlikable, they also felt like stereotypically-drawn caricatures going through the motions. The main protagonist, Freya, especially frustrated me to no end. One of the things I absolutely can't stand in books are grown up, adult characters who act like petulant children, as well as female characters who are portrayed stereotypically (i.e.: weak, hysterical, naive, irrational, emotional, wushu-washy, etc.) — unfortunately for me, Freya was both of these and worse. I hated how pretty much every single thing Freya did, every decision she made, was done in a way that made no sense whatsoever. From the get go, Freya is portrayed as naive and foolish, which I guess is the author's way of perhaps justifying why she makes one reckless decision after another throughout the entire story. Having said all that though, my biggest pet peeve is when the female character knows that doing certain things or going down certain paths is self-destructive and/or will for sure result in negative consequences either for herself or for others (oftentimes the character actually tells us so via her wn inner dialogue), yet she still insists on going forward with the decision — then, when others (usually a friend or family member) try to warn her or talk sense into her, she either goes ballistic and pushes the person away or she does the denial thing by playing dumb and pretending nothing is wrong. And that's just Freya — as if one annoying character wasn't enough, the author had to include an entire cast of them! Freya's father Roger was a jerk, her sister Stella was reckless, Cory Bryne was a delusional psychopath and his mother was a sinister witch — the only decent person in the story was Tom, but even he turned out to be annoying with his wishy washy personality.

Overall, I would have to say that this was a disappointing and frustrating read for me. The writing for the most part was decent, though I felt like the "gothic" vibe and the mystery piece totally didn't work — if this was supposed to be a psychological suspense novel, it completely failed in that aspect, as the main plot points were predictable (I pretty much figured things out already within the first few pages) and the intrigue of the "house" at the center of the story was overshadowed by the loathsomeness of its occupants. In the end, I also felt the story dragged out for way too long, though I think that was because, at that point, I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. While I'm not one to DNF a book once I've started reading, I do believe that, based on sheer annoyance level alone, this one would've been an exception — the only reason I didn't is due to this being a book club read, which made me determined to push through it. With that said, the reviews for this one seem to be all over the place, so I would say read both the positive and negative reviews to get a more balanced perspective before deciding whether to pick this one up.

Review: Diamond Hill (by Kit Fan)

My Rating: 2 stars

 

I really really wanted to like this book…actually, not just like it, but love it. I mean, how often do I come across a book written in English that is set in my birth city of Hong Kong and is actually about HK people, places, culture, history, etc.  After reading the premise, my expectation was that this would be a story that was truly HK-focused, with an authentic portrayal of the city that wasn't written from a primarily Western point of view.  Going into this, I was excited and kept thinking to myself — finally, a book about the old HK that will satisfy the nostalgia I've been feeling lately about a city I've always loved, but had become increasingly foreign to me in recent years.  I went into this with high hopes and also preparing to rate it highly.  Unfortunately, this book turned out to be nothing like what I expected (in a bad way) and after reading it, instead of feeling nostalgic, I actually ended up feeling frustrated and disappointed.

 

The biggest issue I had with this book was that the writing was very disjointed and uneven, which wouldn't have been as bad of a problem except that the story overall was also poorly executed — both of these things, along with several other issues I found, made this an extremely frustrating read for me. In fact, I had actually wanted to DNF this book several times (which is not a good sign, as I'm a stickler for finishing every book I read), but I pressed on, reminding myself every couple pages of all the things I had mentioned above about why I had been so excited to read this.  I ultimately finished, but not without resorting to skimming the last 50 pages or so (because by that point, I was already at my wit's end).

 

The main thing about the writing and execution that frustrated me was the constant switching back and forth between style and tone — one minute, the writing would be eloquent, descriptive, even philosophical, but then the next minute, the writing would descend into profanity-laced vulgarities that seemed to come out of nowhere.  If this happened only once or twice, then it wouldn't be a problem, but the writing actually alternated between these two extremes for the entire story.  As if that weren't enough, there was also a lot of switching back and forth between English and either formal Chinese or Cantonese slang (with English translation in parentheses next to it) — normally, I would be happy to see a book written in English about Chinese culture / experience utilize Chinese characters as needed to enhance the story, but in this case, the switching was done haphazardly, in a random way that made absolutely no sense to me — for instance, randomly inserting Chinese (with English translation) in the middle of characters' dialogues or having some side character who only shows up for like a minute blurt out a bunch of profanities in Cantonese as a main character passes by.  Again, I would be fine with it if incorporating these phrases served a purpose in the story, advanced the plot, or were necessary to characterization— but none of it did…the phrases that the author chose to write in Chinese didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason to them.  From a character perspective, it didn't make sense for some of the characters to speak a hybrid of English / Cantonese to the extent that these characters did (yes, some Hong Kongers do mix some English in their speech, but most ordinary folks don't constantly switch back and forth between the two languages like that unless they're bicultural or they were educated overseas or in an international school where everything is taught in English).  It almost seemed like the author couldn't decide whether he wanted to write in English or Chinese and so decided to do a hodgepodge of both.  

In addition, I also found the prolific and gratuitous use of Cantonese slang words and profanities throughout the story not only unnecessary, but also annoying.  In the Author's Note at the end of the book, Kit Fan explains that he included the Cantonese slang and profanities in both Chinese and English throughout the book in order to "give a culturally distinctive inflection to a language that is under threat, not unlike the shanty town in the novel" – while I agree with the sentiment that Cantonese is a language that has increasingly come under threat over the years, I disagree with the method of sprinkling 'random Cantonese profanities + their English translations' throughout the story as a means of preserving the "vitality of the language."  Even if the author wanted to show the distinctive cultural flavor of Cantonese slang (or the language as a whole), incorporating a few phrases here and there would've been enough — but inundating the story with it, especially when majority of the slang and profanities were irrelevant to the story, that's going overboard in my opinion.  In terms of the translations in parentheses— perhaps because I am both a Cantonese and English speaker myself (as well as a translator for the Chinese/English language pairing), this method especially frustrated me, as my brain is wired to automatically compare the Chinese and English to see if it was translated correctly (quite a bit of it actually wasn't), so each time it switched to Chinese, I got jarred out of the story – basically, rather than enhancing the story or helping me appreciate it more, the Chinese words and phrases with its translations ended up being a distraction that made it difficult to concentrate on the story itself.

 

Speaking of the story – well, this was another aspect that I found problematic.  First of all, there wasn't really a plot to speak of – there were a lot of detailed descriptions of places and characters' surroundings, but little to no substance in terms of what actually happens.  If I had to summarize this book, I would say that it is essentially an "information dump about HK" – there is an abundance of name-dropping of various HK people, places, things, historical events, cultural aspects, etc., almost all of which would be recognizable to anyone decently familiar with the city, but none of it advanced the plot and very little (if any) was actually relevant to the story.  Even the characters had no depth to them -- it seemed like the main purpose of the characters was to either 1) describe their surroundings, or 2) regurgitate heaps of (oftentimes unnecessary and irrelevant) information about HK to anyone who would listen, or 3) insult others with some type of profanity / vulgarity and/or drop a random Chinese idiom in the middle of a lengthy, rambling discourse about things may or may not have been important, but I had already stopped caring by that point.

 

What bothered me most about this book though was the stereotypical way in which all the female characters were portrayed in the story.  Of course, I wasn't expecting a male author to write complex female characters completely accurately, but I was disappointed (and more than a bit miffed) that the author seemed to go the route of portraying all the women as sexual stereotypes who essentially fell into three categories:  the uptight, sex-deprived nun; the promiscuous, 'gangster wannabe' tomboy;  and the sex-crazy, possibly a little unhinged prostitute.  Though I understand that these portrayals probably weren't intentional on the author's part, as a woman, I found such depictions offensive and worrisome, especially since we've seen over the past year how harmful perpetuating such stereotypes can be.  

 

With all that said, I do believe in giving credit where it's due and so I have to say that the author did a pretty good job giving readers unfamiliar with HK a better understanding of what life in Diamond Hill was like back in the day.  The feelings of despair and uncertainty that were pretty widespread throughout HK in the years after the signing of the Joint Declaration were also well-depicted — feelings that were exacerbated tenfold after what happened in Tiananmen in 1989 (and sparked fears about the fate of Hong Kongers after the handover).

Even though this book absolutely didn't work for me, I am clearly the exception here given all the 4 and 5 star reviews I've seen for this one.  So I would say check out the other reviews so you can make an informed decision on whether you'd be interested in reading this one. 

Received ARC from World Editions via Edelweiss.

  

 

 

Review: Faye, Faraway (by Helen Fisher)

My Rating: 2.5 stars

I don't read much science fiction, as the genre just doesn't interest me and I don't want to waste my time slogging through books that I know I most likely won't enjoy.  Having said that though, I AM open to occasionally trying out books of other genres with sci-fi themes worked into the story (as long as it's not hard-core sci-fi stuff) and there have been plenty of times where I actually had a good reading experience.  This is one of the reasons why I decided to pick up Helen Fisher's debut novel Faye, Faraway – with its premise as a "heartfelt" story about family, relationships, love, and time travel, I thought it would be one of the "exceptions" that I would be able to appreciate.  The summary describes this as an emotionally gripping, contemporary story about a woman named Faye who time travels back to the past to see her mother, who had died 30 years ago when Faye was just 8 years old.  Faye becomes friends with her mother (who doesn't know who she is of course) and the more time she spends with her, the more Faye doesn't want to let her go, even though she knows she must do so in order to return to her beloved husband and 2 daughters.  In the end, faced with an impossible scenario, Faye must choose between a second chance to make things right with her mother in the past or letting go and returning to her happy life with her family in the present.  Based on this premise, I went into this one expecting to be moved and perhaps to even shed a tear or two – but my reaction ended up being the opposite.  Instead of the expected emotional reaction, I ended up feeling super annoyed and frustrated, both with how the story played out, as well as with the characters. 

 

The story is narrated from Faye's first-person perspective, which I feel like is one of the things that didn't work too well in this instance, as it seemed that Faye spent way too much time explaining and justifying (and re-explaining and re-justifying) practically every action she takes, especially as it pertains to her time travel.  Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but I found most of her arguments irrational and nonsensical.  I'm all for flawed characters in stories (as we are only humans after all and are bound to make mistakes and bad decisions), but I also need to see these characters grow in some way as the story progresses, rather than remain one-dimensional from beginning to end.  With Faye, I felt like she didn't change throughout the story – her behavior was childish and immature from the start and it continued to be up until the very end.  I also got annoyed by the fact that Faye would act overly unreasonable and stubborn throughout nearly the entire story – even when others tried to reason with her, she didn't seem to want to listen.  Maybe I'm being too harsh, but I just find it hard to believe that Faye's overwhelming desire to see her dead mother again (even she herself called it an "obsession") could be all-consuming to the point that she was willing to put the life and happiness that she spent over 30 years building,  (not to mention her family's happiness) in jeopardy.  The first time Faye encountered this dilemma (going back versus remaining in the present), I  could understand her struggle with it and even empathize with her, but after repeated conversations with people who would tell her over and over again the dangers of her actions and how it wasn't worth the risks, and even after she acknowledged they were right, but most importantly, she recognized that it was unfair to put her husband and daughters through the ordeal of potentially losing her if she got stuck in the past and couldn't return, she still insisted on going, as she missed her mom too much not to do so.   It was unfathomable to me how she could be so irrational and irresponsible, especially given how much she claimed that she couldn't bear to leave her family.

 

The other part of this whole thing that annoyed me was the fact that Faye felt like she couldn't tell her husband Eddie the truth (about her time traveling) because she knew he would try to stop her (especially since each time she traveled back in time, she would get physically injured) and she wouldn't be able to bear it – so she decides to lie to him, even though she knows full well her husband can see right through her (as she repeats this continuously throughout the story).  Then, when it gets to the point that her husband can't stand it anymore and thinks she's having an affair, she becomes indignant and belligerent, almost as though she is outraged that her husband would think such thoughts – again, her reaction made no sense given that she was the one evading his questions and telling him lies that even she herself didn't find plausible.  And then later, Faye berates the one friend who believed in her — when he tried to persuade her not to take the risk of going back to the past again due to the dangers and what it would do to her family, she insults him and claims that he's jealous and throws his disability (blindness) at him...she even tells herself she knows she's being unfair and he's only trying to help her, but she's so mad at her own helplessness that she lashes out at anyone who tries to "walk her down from the ledge."  Basically, my experience with this book was that each scene as the story progressed got more and more ridiculous, with Faye's behavior more and more reckless and hysterical – needless to say, the more I read, the more frustrated I became.  

 

One of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to characters in books are immature adults who behave unnecessarily defiantly – meaning they know that certain behaviors and/or actions are not constructive and, upon taking the time to weigh the risks, they understand that the outcome would be more harm than good, yet they proceed with the bad decision anyway, all the while telling themselves the equivalent of "I know I shouldn't but I'm going to do it anyway" (and then of course regret it later when things don't go as planned).  Characters like these frustrate me to no end, especially when their actions and behavior make them come across as stereotypical (which Faye certainly did in this story, at least to me).  Unfortunately, in this instance, it wasn't just the characters, as parts of the plot didn't make sense either, plus certain sections were bogged down by wordiness, with explanations and excessive descriptions of things that didn't seem to have anything to do with advancing the narrative. 

 

Overall, I struggled with this one and while I wouldn't say it was a complete lost cause (I did finish the book after all), I felt that much of the story was a stretch and there really didn't seem to be a point to it.  If I had to sum this one up, I would say that it's basically Faye on infinite loop trying to justify her time traveling with back-and-forth arguments that honestly didn't warrant 300 pages to get across.  I also didn't feel the emotional pull that others seemed to experience with this book, though this was likely due to my annoyance with the main character being so strong that it was hard to feel anything else for her or any of the other characters.  It could also be this was just the wrong book at the wrong time for me given the events of this past week and being inundated with examples of people showing poor judgment and making bad decisions.  As I'm an outlier on this one amongst the many 4 and 5 star reviews, I would definitely recommend checking out those reviews as well for a more balanced perspective.

 

Received ARC from Gallery Books via NetGalley.

 

Review: To Tell You the Truth (by Gilly Macmillan)

My Rating:  2.5 stars

In comparisons to August (during which time I surprised myself by reading a record 7 books in a month!), September is shaping up to be a slower reading month for me.  The past 2 weeks were unexpectedly busy and I had a few things going on that occupied my time.  I'm back into my regular reading schedule now though and have a few books lined up already so hopefully nothing else comes up between now and end of the month so I can use this last week and a half to "make up for lost time" where my reading is concerned. 

During this time period, the one book I was able to finish was Gilly Macmillan's latest psychological thriller To Tell You the Truth (scheduled for release 9/22).  Initially, I was excited going into this one, as the previous work of this author's that I'd read (I Know You Know from 2018), I had really enjoyed, so I was thinking this would be in the same vein.  It turns out I was completely wrong, and not in a good way either.  With this newest work, I actually came out of it confused, disappointed, and super annoyed — obviously a way different reaction from previous.  The main reason for my annoyance were the characters, all of whom were despicable and hugely unlikable, which, for me, isn't usually a problem as long as the rest of the story is done well — unfortunately, I can't say that was the case here.  I'll get into the issues I had with the story and plot later. First though, the characters...

One of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to psychological thrillers / suspense novels with an adult female protagonist at the center of the story is for her to be written in such a way that she comes across as wishy-washy, overly emotional, incapable of thinking rationally, lacking any sense of self-preservation and common sense, etc.  This is usually portrayed through the protagonist deciding to still go forward with things that she has already determined (through an inner dialogue with herself via first person narrative) are bad or will result in negative consequences — basically, the dialogue goes along the lines of "I knew I shouldn't, but I went along with it anyway" or "I should tell him no but the word yes comes out of my mouth instead".  The frustrating part is that the protagonist nonsensically makes these kinds of bad decisions repeatedly throughout the story and therefore keeps getting herself in predicaments that are entirely preventable.  Even if the protagonist is only like this for part of the story and they seem to "wisen up" somewhat later on, it still taints the entire story for me.

Unfortunately for me, the main protagonist of To Tell You the Truth, Lucy Harper, is exactly this type of character. In a way, it made me mad the way she was portrayed, since technically, the characterization could've gone several ways.  Lucy is a best-selling author who is supposedly smart and talented as heck and who has enjoyed a decades-long career writing multiple books that sold millions, but when she's not writing, she's basically walking around in a fog most of the time, willfully oblivious to anything that happens where her husband Daniel is concerned.  For example, Daniel uses Lucy's money to buy a million dollar mansion, puts only his own name on the deed, swiftly gives notice on the place where they are currently living so that they are forced to move within only a few days, etc. (yes, there is more, I just didn't list it all).  Here's the catch though: he does all this behind Lucy's back without discussing it with her.  What's worse is that the mansion is located just down the street from where Lucy lived as a child — a place that Lucy never wanted to go back to because of what had happened to her brother Teddy 30 years ago (Daniel has full knowledge of this and also knows full well the impact that Teddy's disappearance had on her).  When Daniel casually springs the sale of the house and the move, etc. on Lucy as though it's something perfectly normal that a doting husband does for his wife and she would be a fool not to go along with it, Lucy is supposedly angry (at least that's what she tells herself), but instead of making her disdain and objections known or confronting him about it or calling out his obvious selfishness, she just stands idly by and let's him do what he wants.  Even though she is seething inside and pissed off and can already see the train wreck waiting to happen financially (we know all this because the narrative is in first person), her actions speak otherwise, as she chooses the "naive, docile wife" route and basically ignores all the red flags starring her in the face.  It's also maddening that at various points in the story, it is inferred that Lucy's behavior is a result of her being psychotic or paranoid or whatnot and that she is not "right in the head."  To me, the entire characterization felt too stereotypical and convenient (not to mention downright annoying and frustrating).  I think it's interesting that this is the third psychological thriller / suspense novel I've read so far this year with this type of protagonist — either this is starting to become a trend now with this genre for some reason or I'm having incredibly bad luck with choosing the wrong thrillers to read.  

To make matters worse, Lucy actually wasn't the only annoying character.  I already mentioned earlier that nearly all the characters were unlikable — Daniel was obviously a douchebag, all of Lucy's neighbors were hateful people, and most of the other characters were either incompetent or insignificant in terms of the story.  All of them were honestly really frustrating to read about — which brings me to the issues I had with the execution of the story.  I don't want to go too much into the plot, as I don't want to give the story away, but there were quite a few plot holes involving some of the characters that honestly didn't make much sense and in the end, were left unresolved.  It was to the point where it made me wonder why those scenes with those characters were included in the first place.  The other thing I didn't like was that the last third of the story felt like a rushed exercise in "plot dumping" — essentially the plot details were dumped on the reader in swift succession, one right after the other, but some of it didn't make sense based on the progression of the story up to that point.  I also felt like some of the threads were left hanging in that some significant detail would get cryptically brought up in a scene that points to the thread going in a certain direction, but then the story ends without any reference back to it.  When I read mystery / thriller / suspense novels, I of course don't expect a straightforward, easy-to-figure-out ending delivered nicely in a box with a pretty bow on top (in fact, the opposite is true in that there should be some twists and turns and the plot should be unpredictable).  With that said though, one thing I do expect is closure, especially with the main story arc, which I didn't feel that I got in this instance (I don't want to say more — those who read the book will probably understand what I'm referring to).  

With all that said, this one wasn't all bad.  Parts of it truly were intriguing, plus I actually didn't guess the ending or what happened to Daniel, so I guess from a thriller perspective, it did its job.  The premise also had a lot of potential — I think Gilly Macmillan had the right idea, it's just she tried to cover too much ground and the story ended up getting away from her.  From her past works, I know she is capable of writing a cleverly crafted, compelling thriller with interesting and complicated characters — unfortunately, this one isn't it.  Despite the not-so-good experience with this one, I'm still interested in reading other works by this author, especially since I did have a good experience with her previous work.   Hopefully her next one will work out better for me.

Received ARC from William Morrow (HarperCollins) via NetGalley.

Review: Until I Find You (by Rea Frey)

My Rating: 2 stars

This book annoyed me from the moment I started reading all the way to the very end. The story was far-fetched and the way much of the plot played out, I basically had to suspend disbelief the entire time.  But what annoyed me most was actually the main character Bec (short for Rebecca), who was so overwritten as a character that I ended up tremendously disliking her (even though I think the intention was, based on the way she was portrayed, the reader is supposed to sympathize with her).   Bec is diagnosed with a condition that causes her to gradually lose her eyesight, yet despite that, she is happy and intent on living a blissful life with her wonderful, supportive husband and their soon-to-be born baby.  But then Bec's husband dies in a horrible accident and instantly her world is shattered.  Unable to bear living in the same house without her husband, Bec decides to move in with her mother, who still lives in the house in Elmhurst that she grew up in.  Shortly after her son Jackson is born however, tragedy strikes again, as Bec's mother dies unexpectedly, and  with no other living relatives to speak of, Bec is left to take care of her infant son Jackson by herself.  Fortunately, Bec has a group of friends and neighbors – other moms in their small, close-knit community – who understand what she is going through and are more than willing to help her out. 

 

The problem is, Bec is fiercely stubborn (probably "obsessively stubborn" is a more accurate term) and basically refuses any type of help from anyone — in fact, she is so adverse to people even offering to help her that she often goes out of her way to demonstrate she is perfectly capable on her own, even if it involves lying about predicaments that she finds herself in.  To me though, it's not just the fact that Bec constantly and deliberately pushes away all help of any kind that annoyed me, but also the aggressively defiant way she refuses the help, almost as though she is insulted by the notion that other people are offering to help her.   It defies logic and quite frankly, I found her behavior tremendously offensive.   One example (out of many) that especially frustrated me was when she's at the park with the other moms and she passes out briefly (likely from sleep deprivation and exhaustion, which she was already complaining about early on in the story) — she then falls and hits her head and of course, her friends rush to help her, but she refuses their efforts to help her up, refuses to let them tend to her wound, refuses to let them accompany her home.  Instead, she ridiculously insists that she has no problem walking home by herself in that condition (with her baby in tow) and to prove it, she charges forward to grab the stroller and head home, except that her friends intervene and force her to let them accompany her (they actually had to get on either side of her and drag her with them!).   Another example — the stairs in her old house, which have broken steps that caused her to trip and nearly fall multiple times, yet doesn't get it fixed because she either doesn't have time (overexertion with doing everything herself) or doesn't want to ask others to help her fix it.  So instead, it's one excuse after another — she knows her way around the house well enough to avoid the broken step, and is very careful on the stairs when carrying the baby (indeed, the 2 times — maybe more, I just stopped paying attention after awhile — that she actually fell down the stairs, she wasn't holding the baby, which I guess is justification that she's in the right?  And don't get me started on the "drama for drama's sake" plot point of having Bec – and other characters -- repeatedly  trip / nearly fall / actually fall down the stairs multiple times over the course of the entire story – why not just get the darn stairs fixed!?).

I think one of the reasons why Bec's stubbornness irked me as much as it did was because of the impact of her actions and behavior on her baby, which she seemed completely oblivious to.  Decisions such as choosing to take her son with her everywhere she went Instead of hiring a nanny or babysitter or even having her friends help watch the baby for a few hours so she could run errands or whatnot, were irrational, especially when a few of those situations actually put the baby in danger (like that one scene where she had the baby in a carrier strapped to her chest and insisted on going to the park all alone late at night to poke around, even though she was given specific instructions to stay home).   This kind of nonsensical behavior from Bec basically permeates the entire story.  

I actually had a lot more issues with the story (particularly as it relates to Bec's interactions with her ex Jake and also the local police), but I can't bring those up without giving away the plot, so I won't list those at this time.  Overall though, as I mentioned earlier, the entire story felt very unrealistic to me.  I mean, I get the message the author is trying to send here — the blind young widow who rises above her circumstances in spite of tragedy, who should be admired for her strength, courage, and unfaltering devotion to her infant son — but execution-wise, it went the wrong way in my opinion.  I think most of us would agree that asking for help when it's warranted (I.e.: when one is injured, as an example), is not normally viewed as a sign of weakness, so for Bec to be portrayed to such extreme, just doesn't make much sense. 

One thing I do want to mention — this is actually the third book I've read by Rea Frey and I actually liked both of her previous novels quite a lot, so I'm a bit disappointed (and surprised) that this one fell so far off the mark for me.  With that said, it hasn't put me off from reading her works in the future, though I do hope that I will take to her next book much better.

Received paper ARC directly from publisher (St. Martin's Griffin).

Review: Paris Never Leaves You (by Ellen Feldman)

My Rating: 2 stars

This is a difficult review for me to write, as I really wanted to like this book, but there were just too many things wrong with it, to the point that the negatives ended up outweighing the few positives.  I was initially drawn to this book because of the premise and also the genre of historical fiction being one of my favorites.  The first chapter actually started off okay, but unfortunately, the more I read, the more I found it difficult to get into the story – my attention would start to wander and next thing I knew, I was skimming pages rather than actually reading.

The biggest problem I had with the story was its structure.  Going into this, I was expecting an alternating timeline between wartime Paris and 1950s New York as mentioned in the premise.  I'm fine with alternating timelines, as I read a lot of historical fiction and am used to seeing that with the genre.  Usually, with dual timelines, there is an identifier that clearly differentiates the past from the present – be it separate chapters with the timeframe indicated at the start, or, if within the same chapter, a marker of some sort or even a transition sentence or two.  For some reason, none of that existed in this book, at least not in the copy I received.  There was no clear delineation whatsoever between the two timelines, no transition or anything – each chapter seemed to start in the present, but then a few paragraphs in, it would seemingly jump to the past and then later jump back to the present.   For example – there would be a scene where the main character Charlotte is talking to her daughter Vivi, who is 14 years old in the present (1950s New York), about something, then in the next paragraph, Vivi is described as being asleep in the back room of a store while there is some drama going on in the front room...it took me a bit to realize that paragraph was actually describing something that occurred 10 years ago when Charlotte was still in Paris and Vivi was only 4 years old.  There was no transition sentence or even a few words to indicate that Charlotte was thinking of a past memory – in fact, the entire sequence would be written in the same present tense voice, which made it feel like everything was happening in the same timeline when they obviously weren't.  This made the story very confusing and extremely hard to follow.  Not only that, it also made it hard for me to connect with any of the characters, as I was too distracted trying to sort out the timelines and ended up not paying as much attention to what was happening with the characters.

Speaking of the characters....as if the timeline thing wasn't confusing enough, the way some of the characters were written was a bit all over the place.  There were some sections where a character would be referred to by their first name, but had not been introduced or mentioned previously, making it feel like the character was randomly dropped into the story without explanation of who they were – a few times I actually had to go back and re-read previous sections to see if I may have missed something.  Interestingly enough, there were also some sections where the opposite occurred – there would be paragraph upon paragraph describing someone doing something or interacting with someone else, but the entire time, only the gender pronoun (he or she) would be used and no name would be mentioned. 

I also had an issue with the way the historical elements were incorporated into the story.  In some of the chapters, a historical situation would be brought up and the description of it would go on for pages and pages, sometimes to the point that it felt disconnected from the rest of the plot.  Basically, the historical elements didn't blend well into the story, which made me feel at times that I was reading a fictional story with random history lessons haphazardly inserted in places where it didn't make sense.  But then in other sections, there would be no historical element at all, just some soap opera-ish drama and/or back-and-forth dialogue between some of the characters.

Overall, this book was a chore to read, as the serious flaws with the execution made it mostly not work for me.  Unfortunately, the basic structural issues were too overwhelming and therefore hard for me to ignore, which is a shame, as I felt the story did have potential.  With that said, I'm a bit of an outlier here, since there are plenty of positive reviews for this book, so I would suggest checking those out as well for a more balanced perspective.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Griffin via Edelweiss.

Review: The Wife Who Knew Too Much (by Michele Campbell)



My Rating:  2 stars



This is the third book I've read by author Michele Campbell and the second one that I've disliked strongly enough to give it only 2 stars (and still feel like I'm being too generous).   

Last year, when I read Campbell's A Stranger on the Beach, the two biggest issues I had with the book were the badly executed story line as well as the frustratingly cliched and unrealistically written characters.  In my review of that book, I remember writing how much I loathed the characters (especially the main protagonist Caroline), whose actions and behavior would get more ridiculous and outrageous the more the story progressed.  Unfortunately, Campbell's newly released fourth novel The Wife Who Knew Too Much was plagued by pretty much the same issues as her previous book — the execution was poor and the characters were absolutely loathsome.  Actually, in my opinion, the characters in this story — especially the main character Tabitha — were way worse....I disliked most of them from the very first page.  Its not often that I react in such a negative manner to characters in a fictional story, but Tabitha truly did get on my nerves.  Perhaps I'm tired of reading about middle-aged women who are immature and childish and come across like petulant teenagers, or who are portrayed as naive and overly emotional and incapable of thinking rationally.  Tabitha is the type of character I can't stand — indecisive, foolish, immature — throughout the entire story, she knowingly makes poor choices over and over (and over and over and over) again, and if that's not bad enough, whenever things go south because of those choices, the main reaction is to whine and cry and beat herself up for being foolish (the word "stupid" is more appropriate but a bit too harsh)...then, instead of learning from her mistakes and trying to fix them, she pushes all rational thought away and dives headfirst back into the foolishness that had gotten her burned in the first place.  It's hard to dislike a character so much that you end up having zero sympathy for them as well as not caring one bit what happens to them, but that's definitely how I felt about Tabitha (and all the characters in this story, for that matter).  Don't get me wrong — I have no problems with flawed characters, as those flaws are usually what makes characters realistic, but the characters in this story were beyond flawed...Tabitha, Connor, Nina, and  just about every other character in here were so cliched and stereotypically drawn that they essentially became caricatures.

Aside from the characters, the other thing that annoyed me was the plot, which I found to be ridiculously contrived from beginning to end.  It's one thing for a plot to be predictable, but entirely another when it veers into "outlandish" territory, to the point that I have to suspend disbelief every step of the way.  Barely halfway through the story, I got so annoyed that I started skimming through to the end, which I'm glad I did because I know if I had read it word for word, I probably would've thrown my Kindle across the room in frustration. The writing itself was also a problem for me, as it felt very elementary and clunky, plus the fact that, as the main character, Tabitha narrated the story from her first person point of view made it so much worse, as I got fed up hearing her go back and forth trying to rationalize every dumb decision she made.  

After 2 books in a row that left a bad taste in my mouth, I think I'm officially done with this author, at least for now.  With that said though, I don't want to discourage anyone from reading this if they so choose, as not everyone will have the same negative experience I did. So definitely check out other reviews first before deciding.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley

Review: Keeping Lucy (by T. Greenwood)

My Rating: 2.5 stars

Last year, I had read and loved T. Greenwood's beautifully written novel Rust & Stardust, her fictional retelling of the Sally Horner case.  The way that story was written — hauntingly powerful, heartfelt, sincere...a deeply emotional story that shook me to the core and continued to stay with me long after I had finished reading it.  Given this background, when I was offered a galley of Greenwood's next novel Keeping Lucy, I eagerly accepted.  After reading the summary and discovering that it would be about a mother forced to send her baby daughter, born with Down Syndrome, away to a special needs school, I expected another deeply emotional, heartfelt story.  Going into this book with such high expectations, I'm sorry to say that I ended up sorely disappointed with how this one turned out.

From the writing to the characters to the execution of the story, Keeping Lucy felt completely opposite to what Rust & Stardust had been — to the point that, as I was reading, I couldn't help shaking my head and wondering whether this could've been written by the same author whose previous book I had adored.  The story actually started off fine, as the opening chapters did a great job of setting up the story as well as the emotional undertones for the events that I thought were about to unfold — a heart-wrenching story about Lucy, the horrors she endured at that school, and her mother's fight to get her back.  Unfortunately, about a quarter of the way into the story,  the plot went completely off the rails and instead of getting to hear Lucy's emotional story as I expected, it became a "road trip" story of sorts when Ginny (Lucy's mother) and her best friend Martha decide to drive across the country with the kids in tow.  From there, the remainder of the story was pretty much about the various situations that Ginny and Martha get themselves into and how they wind up getting themselves out of them.  It felt as though Lucy's story was placed on the back burner, glossed over and forgotten, only brought back out to the forefront when it was convenient to do so, but still sparingly for the most part, as that "terrible place" and the horrors Lucy must have endured are repeatedly alluded to but rarely addressed directly.  

The writing this time around was also off.  Whereas with Rust & Stardust, the writing felt lyrical and poetic and there was a strong sense of time and place, I unfortunately didn't feel any of that with Keeping Lucy.  The writing in this one felt a bit all over the place – overly descriptive in some parts, not descriptive enough in others.  There was also a lot of what I would classify as "unnecessary descriptions of the mundane" – for example, descriptions along the lines of the following:  'she got in the car, turned the key in the ignition, pressed one foot on the clutch, the other on the brake, put her hands on the steering wheel, and looked out the windshield in front of her' (paraphrased and not direct quote from the book!) – which dragged the story down tremendously for me.  Instead of the many superfluous descriptions that seemed to be of little significance and did nothing to advance the plot, it would have been better to use that space to actually tell Lucy's story.

With all that said, what frustrated me the most about this book was actually the characters — specifically the adult characters in the story — most of whom were unlikable.  The way Ginny's character was written especially frustrated me – throughout the time that Ginny and Marsha were on the run, a significant portion of the story consisted of  a constant barrage of Ginny's thoughts as she debated back and forth (often in her own mind) about everything from her decision to run away, to the status of her marriage, to her relationship with her husband's domineering parents, etc.  Oftentimes, Ginny came across as fickle and never quite able to make up her mind about anything, though the most annoying part for me was how her thoughts always seemed to get caught up in an endless loop where she's wracked with guilt one minute, anger the next minute, then doesn't know how she feels the minute after that – the pattern seemed to be that she would reflect about all the regrets in her life, how she deliberately chose to stick her head in the sand, to ignore the signs and keep quiet when she should've said something, but then she turns around and tries to justify why things happened that way, that perhaps it's no one's fault, then realizes she is making excuses, wakes herself up to reality, then tries to push all the thoughts out of her mind completely.  I usually don't mind flawed characters in a story as long as they are written realistically, but when the portrayal goes overboard to the point that it becomes melodrama that detracts from the story itself, that's when it becomes too much for me -- instead of being able to connect with the character or feel any type of empathy for what they're going through, I feel annoyed and frustrated instead.

This was a book that I really really wanted to like, but found it extremely hard to do so.  With that said, I won't discount this author yet, as I've only read 2 books of hers so far that have fallen on the opposite ends of the spectrum for me.  Hopefully Greenwood's next book will be able to deliver a heartfelt and emotionally resonant story along the lines of Rust & Stardust rather than Keeping Lucy.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley.