Mommy was only a shell of a person with nothing to give. She was like a store full of bright and tempting candies held captive behind a thick, transpaMommy was only a shell of a person with nothing to give. She was like a store full of bright and tempting candies held captive behind a thick, transparent wall. It wasn't like Hanna hadn't tried to tap on the glass and grasp what was inside.
So, it’s possible that I’m just too much of a Southerner for this book, but Baby Teeth absolutely did not work for me. (Well, that's not 100% true: I think the book's title and cover art are phenomenal.) It was just so melodramatic and implausible that I found myself doing the deepest of eye rolls on more than one occasion, and turning the page became a harder and harder task the further I got along in this novel.
The premise of this novel is very simple: A seven-year-old terrorizes her mother but puts on an innocent face for Daddy, driving a wedge between the couple and driving the mom to desperation. Think The Orphan (2009) meets We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011). With that out of the way, we can move on to the merits and non-redeeming qualities of this book, shall we?
One of my pet peeves in fiction is when entire plot lines hinge on implausible circumstances. I heaved this book into that metaphorical pile pretty early on and it will remain there forever. Baby Teeth was kin to those horror movies where the pretty blonde girl is running through the night in her heels and instead of running outside of the house for safety, she runs upstairs to the collective annoyance of the audience. Like, the plot didn’t make ANY sense! Why, you may ask? Because the entire narrative would have been different if one of two SIMPLE things had happened: (view spoiler)[ If Suzette had had the common sense to a) video record her daughter’s bad behavior to show her husband as proof or b) if she’d actually tried her hand at disciplining her. *side eye glance inserted here* (hide spoiler)]. That’s why I say I must be too much of a Southerner for this book, because I don’t know anyone, of any color or creed, who would let their kid get away with the things little Hanna got away with – and then crawl and grovel on their knees for this child’s forgiveness after THEY, the PARENT, have been assaulted. Seriously, implausible. And, so weak-willed that I started to really despise Suzette's spinelessness. Spine. Less.
Aside from the sheer improbability of this story line, it also wasn’t very well-written either. And, there are very few things more unforgivable than that to an avid reader. I mean, yes, there were words strung together in a way that made sense in the English language, but I didn’t feel that there was any remarkable skill on display whatsoever. I didn't feel like I'd stumbled across anything that I would take with me for more than 4 minutes after I turned the final page of that book. It read as a first-time novel for sure, clunky and clumsily done.
I’ve seen Baby Teeth listed as a thriller; it wasn’t that at all, but it COULD have been. It probably would have been a much more enjoyable read—cringe-worthy moments in the plot and all—if it had been written from Suzette’s POV only. Then we could have seen her mounting terror and desperation and feel it in a more pure form—the way that she did. But Stage decided to try her hand at writing in a child’s voice via Hanna's chapters and it Did. Not. Work. Honestly, a terrible idea given the level of skill she displayed in this novel. Not only did it take away from the suspense to know exactly what Hanna was going to do next from her POV, but the clunky and inauthentic way in which Stage wrote Hanna made reading her chapters a real chore. Of course, I understand that Stage was attempting to speak simplistically, as a child might, but it didn’t sound anything like a seven-year-old’s way of speech and mannerisms in the slightest. Her editor would have done better to tell her to hold off on that.
I nearly didn’t finish this book. I found it to be THAT ridiculous with nothing remarkable about the writing style to keep me hooked. But, as we readers often do, I just HAD to trudge on to see if my mind would be magically changed in the end. It wasn’t, though the end result of the book was one of the better parts of the plot, so at least there’s that, right? 2 stars **
*I received an ARC of this book from the publisher, St. Martin's Press, via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
See my EXCLUSIVE interview with Francesca Hornak here!
Seven Days of Us is the quintessential heartwarming family novel, a quick and quaint little holiSee my EXCLUSIVE interview with Francesca Hornak here!
Seven Days of Us is the quintessential heartwarming family novel, a quick and quaint little holiday read to be devoured in one sitting. With flashes of wit, intellect and social reflection peppered in, Seven Days offers a great combination of laughter and insight, as we get to know these characters while they re-get to know each other. Imagine being stuck in your home for seven days with your family, unable to flee into the night, unable to avoid the unavoidable. To me, that sounds like the worst kind of torture! And Francesca Hornak brought that feeling to life in a meaningful way that allows the reader to identify with at least one of the characters, always a treat.
This read is not one that will bog you down, nor is it one that will stay with me, personally, for very long. Seven Days of Us is a novel that stays in its lane; it doesn't try to masquerade as something it's not, and I can respect that. I don't know that it was "sharply" anything, as the blurb implied, and the ending did hurry to a close like an urgent hand at your back. BUT, it is a read for the lovers of the quaint and cozy literary experience, a novel for anyone who loved the movie The Family Stone (2005), and a delightful treat for those on holiday to pass the time and enjoy a chuckle. If that's what you're looking for, you've found a home and a warm mug of Earl Grey within the pages of Hornak's Seven Days. 3*
**Thank you so much to Berkley Publishing who reached out to me and sent me a physical ARC of this book!
Wow, WHAT a read! I can definitely see why this novel has been hailed an all-time pop culture classic! I loved absolutely every minute of this book anWow, WHAT a read! I can definitely see why this novel has been hailed an all-time pop culture classic! I loved absolutely every minute of this book and I wish I could find more contemporary novels with the vim, wit, and insight that this book offered! This will always have a place on my shelf and will always be one of my all-time favorites! (Funny how my all-time favs this year have been classics rather than contemporaries, eh?) I highly recommend this book to all women, particularly those "coming of age" in their 20s-30s. You'll find something to love, empathize with and root for in all of these women!
I received an advance-read copy of this book from the publisher, Henry Holt & Co., via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Boy, was I looking I received an advance-read copy of this book from the publisher, Henry Holt & Co., via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Boy, was I looking forward to reading this one! With its attractive cover promising intrigue, social commentary and references to Wharton, I was sold like a new car and eagerly clicked ‘Request’ on NetGalley the moment I came across it. But upon reading it, I came away with a mixed bag of emotions toward it that left me a bit dissatisfied. What I liked about Puig’s A Wife of Noble Character was that it didn’t follow the trajectory I thought it would, and that’s always a plus. I had an idea in my head of how it would all play out when I first met all of the characters. And, yes, while this is a self-proclaimed “classic love story,” (a label which basically lets you know how the story will end) the twists and turns that happened to get to that point were often surprising. The biggest plus of A Wife for me, by far, was the last 20% of the read, which pulled this novel back from the abyss for me. Without giving anything away, one of the pivotal turning points in the novel did make me respect, if not like, Vivienne a little more.
Vivienne is a character who is considered by all in her sphere to be beautiful. All she has ever been—or accomplished—in life is being “beautiful,” thus her aspirations in life go hand-in-hand with that. She struggles against this internally, but it’s not as deep as it sounds. Really, she’s trying to decide if being a Texas gold-digger is really her calling—though she still hasn’t settled on whether or not she would consider herself to be such. Enter her gentlemen callers--the men in her life who have similar views on her shown in polarizing ways but who end up shaping the way that she views herself and what she wants from her own life.
Now, I must say that in reviewing A Wife of Noble Character, I realized that the problem I had with it was the packaging. It all began and ended, so to speak, with the packaging! Reading it, I wanted it to be more; I wanted it to live up to the lovely wrapping that it was dressed and presented in, but it didn’t—not for me. This wasn’t some poignant and charmingly funny Edith Wharton spin-off—some modernized version that still had some intellectual bite. No, this was pure chick lit, highlighted by the fact that the protagonist, Vivienne, seemed to want sympathy and commiseration for the everyday life hardships that she experienced, as if she were somehow exempt from real-world issues. Oh my God, you poor thing--you have bills? You have to figure out how to get a job? Oh, I'm so sorry for you! Or not. (Enter borderline shopaholic heroine who frets over whether or not to flat iron her hair. Oh Lord, there's nothing more annoying than a whiny and entitled protagonist!!) Aggrivating, but often true of chick lit, which is why had I known that this was behind door #1, I would’ve run in the other direction for sure. More importantly, I can’t imagine that this won’t be an issue for this novel to some extent in the future. How are readers of chick lit who might really enjoy this read to know that they’ve found their match if it isn’t packaged correctly? And how many readers will be annoyed to no end (raising hand now) once they figure out that they’ve been duped by a literarily slanted book flap and cover?
Meanwhile, this one started out in one of the strangest manners I’ve come across in a while. It just dropped the reader in, right in the middle of a college campus quad, not knowing who the characters were or where their motivations lay. I felt like I’d stumbled into the middle of something and had a hard time getting into the swing of things in those first few chapters, because I kept feeling that maybe I’d missed something—that the format of the first chapter had been purposeful and not just awkwardly done. Character entrances like that can work well and make the reader feel that they’re really in the middle of the action! But this just felt like I’d started the read in the middle of chapter 2.
All in all, if you’re looking for glimpses of Edith Wharton, you won’t find her here. That I can promise you (if you’re like me and you think something like "Afterward" [1910] when you think Wharton). Nevertheless, the writing was energetic and buoyant in its WASPiness—in the same vein as other recent releases The Nest and Eligible. Of course, it exploited every cliché of Texas life you’ve ever heard—trust me, I know, being born and raised in Texas. But clichés are clichés for a reason, so sometimes they work well when re-examined, re-purposed, re-done, re-imagined, but I didn’t see much of that here. If pushed just a tad further it could’ve been satire in some areas, but it fell a little short in that department too. I felt like I knew these characters and understood them, because their motives were simple. But I never felt for them or rooted for them. Really, I was just watching them and their drama play out but never felt a part of it, never felt invested in the outcome.
So, between the light-heartedness of the narrative and the mild feeling of being duped, A Wife grabbed herself 3 stars that would’ve been shaky at best if not for the pivot it took toward the end. 3 stars ***
Eligible is the witty and modern retelling of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Here you will find the Bennett sisters in the 21st century, complete Eligible is the witty and modern retelling of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Here you will find the Bennett sisters in the 21st century, complete with artificial insemination, yoga, and fad workout obsessions among other more raucous taboos. Here you will also find nearly 200 chapters—oh my goodness, those chapters; more on those below—and a page count a bit gratuitous for such a read. HOWEVER, within that excessive page count you will also find, sharply entertaining dialogue that’s convincingly witty and shockingly blunt that will keep you laughing along with the Bennett family throughout.
Eligible and I had a bit of a tug-of-war over my reader feelings for the first few chapters, I’ll admit. The dialogue struck me as funny, yes, even ingenious, but also superficial and surface-deep, if that. Initially, the characters struck me as two-dimensional chalk outlines that just happened to speak with droll absurdity that worked. Ah, but then I got to know the Bennett sisters a little better! If Sittenfeld was aiming for jaunty and clever, she certainly hit the nail on the head and was able to keep it consistent throughout. The writing was anecdotal, sometimes to its detriment and at times to its credit, but highly entertaining most of the time.
I must say that I’d be completely misleading you if I didn’t prepare soon-to-be readers for that chapter formatting, though. Some will love it, because it made the read feel that it was moving along faster—helpful when you’re holding almost 500 pages of what is essentially light-read chick lit in your hand—but for those of you who want to be profoundly engrossed and deeply invested in your characters, you may find this to be a bother. I straddled this line. There were times when I was practically dizzy with all of the vignette-type chapters sprawled out here, several of them less than a page long (that goes for pages on your phone, Kindle, iPad—less than a page anywhere, on any reading medium, really). I felt inundated by 200 flash fictions, which just happened to link together into a full-length story. At times I found it to be slightly annoying; sometimes I loved it because it seemed to make the read feel lightning fast, and sometimes it made me feel disconnected from the characters and their world because there wasn’t enough there in the chapter to pull me in. In the end, I think both sides canceled each other out for me, and it was fine.
Eligible definitely could’ve been cut down though. I don’t believe for a second that the editor didn’t notice those superfluous chapters that led nowhere—anecdotes about the past and random streams of consciousness—which should’ve been yanked out, because that definitely contributed to the relatively high page count and my antsyness toward the end. But aside from that last round of edits that went undone, this was a really funny and entertaining read. In the end, I did end up caring about the characters once I settled in—Darcy was my favorite, by far. Sittenfeld gets extra kudos for the way that this one came full circle. If you’ve ever read Austen’s classic on which this one is based, you basically knew how it would end, but Sittenfeld managed to toss in plenty of surprises along the way. I also liked the way that the title was used as a double entendre throughout this novel. Well done.
All in all, I found Eligible to be a jaunty little read that smacked of WASPy delights. It would make for a brilliant movie, likely better than it read, though I enjoyed it on a whole. The characters had wit and flair that would translate well on the silver screen. And, I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention my appreciation for the way that Sittenfeld handled Mrs. Bennetts’ casual xenophobia, cooly admonishing her as ridiculous, foolish and behind the times with just the right hint of “just the way it is.” That aspect added an extra layer of funny in a way that could have easily fallen flat or warranted an eye roll (like its counterpart The Nest, which I have also reviewed. If you’re a chick-lit lover, or even curious about the retelling of an Austen classic, this one will really work for you. Indeed, if you were a fan of The Nest, Eligible will work for you as well, because this one is definitely its much prettier younger cousin that you’ll be glad you chose instead).
So, keeping in mind that this was light-read material not intended to be the next Harper Lee brainchild, I give this one an easily attained 4 stars. ****
The Nest by Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney did absolutely nothing for me. (I clearly seem to be of the minority here, but I’m fine with that.) I had high hopThe Nest by Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney did absolutely nothing for me. (I clearly seem to be of the minority here, but I’m fine with that.) I had high hopes for this one going in—another brilliantly written cover flap did the trick—but my expectations were never met, and by mid-way, I stopped hoping and assuming that they eventually would be. In fact, this one almost didn’t get finished; sheer perseverance pushed me through.
The Nest is about the Plumb siblings, four middle-agers whose lives are thrown into tumult when the eldest, Leo, gets himself into trouble yet again—drugs, a Porsche and a pretty young thing complete the cliché—and their mother nearly depletes “the nest,” their trust fund, which they are all expecting to inherit soon, to get him out of this bind. His siblings, Jack, Bea, and Melody are outraged and anxiety-filled, worrying about their personal financial situations, which have escalated to the point of emergency because they assumed they’d have the nest to bail them out, and now it’s nearly gone. Leo and his siblings struggle to find a way out of the mess he started, and isn’t sure how to remedy, while dealing with the intricacies of their own lives.
The problem with The Nest is that this novel could’ve been written by ANYONE. I saw no extraordinary skill, no ambition, no originality, no nothing. Even the endings were all hastily done, formulaic bow ties fit for day-time TV. In short, I was not impressed. The Nest fell so flat for me that there was nearly an audible "splat" sound ringing in my ears throughout the entire reading process. The writing was mediocre, at times hitting on pithy narrative prose that occurred so infrequently that I have to believe they were flukes, one-offs:
"Maybe she would slip Melody some cash, enough for some Botox or a facial or something to brighten her pallor. She was the youngest and somehow the most faded, as if the Plumb DNA had thinned with each conception, strong and robust with Leo and each child after being—a little less.”
That was one of the better lines of this novel (in addition to the 9/11 nationalism sarcasm), but unfortunately it also sums up how I felt about this one—strong and robust packaging and selling of this novel only for each chapter to impress me less and less. The characters here were so uninteresting, so unremarkable, that I could hardly keep them straight. They were all either blah, like Melody, or cliché—oh, the clichés here!
I can’t even really fully discuss the glaring rudimentary stereotypes running rampant in this one. There was the drunken, ice queen of a matriarch who dressed in a sexy robe for her daughter’s 12th birthday (one of the more interesting characters, whom we hardly saw, but the cliché smacked me in the face). Then there was Matilda Rodriguez, the naïve Hispanic girl who “called everyone Mami or Papi” despite their age—cliché, yawn—and Simone, the supposedly cool, urban, street smart black girl (honestly, already the shallow cliché in this novel’s setting) who says, “That's tight” a lot. Tight? REALLY? Tight? What decade is this, please? This one was absolutely deserving of the eye-roll, that she would stake her novel on such underdeveloped outlines of overdone stereotypes (and that it would then be praised as great writing really confounded me). Then we shan’t forget the cliché of the gay sibling who wanted lots of random, casual sex in sleazy nightclubs (I literally forgot his name and had to look above to write it here, Jack) who marveled at his luck at dodging AIDS (really?), and the list actually does go on. There were so many clichés thrown into this one that it was like the literary equivalent of Scary Movie. This element in and of itself revealed that Sweeney is as out of touch with the real world as her characters are, and that made the read unenjoyable—in fact, a chore. It wasn’t nearly pushed far enough to be satire; this is really the world she wanted to paint, which would have been fine, possibly even funny, as a satire but nothing more than that.
The Nest also had too many superfluous characters and story lines! (I’m looking at you Robohook man, and the guy from the 9/11 towers--and his daughters, and his dog, and his deceased wife, oh my!) This one had the makings of a good read and it even had a few glimmers of entertainment value (but they weren't nearly enough to up the number of stars). (view spoiler)[This novel wasn't even really ABOUT "the nest." It stopped even being about that about 1/3 of the way through, and I nearly forgot what the commotion of the plot line was all about in the first place. (hide spoiler)]
If you want to read about WASPy yacht problems (1st world problems that no one cares about other than the self-absorbed people experiencing them), endless whining about not receiving a large, undeserved amount of money, and story lines that suffered because of the sheer number of them squeezed in here, you’ve come to the right place. I definitely would not recommend this novel to anyone who would even remotely consider themselves a Millennial (whether by age or by temperament). I started to give this one 2 stars, because I finished it, but then realized that that was my own accomplishment, not this novel’s. 1 star. *
With Crazy Rich Asians hitting the big screens in a few short weeks, many readers have decided to re-read this 2013 release – or, as in my case, have With Crazy Rich Asians hitting the big screens in a few short weeks, many readers have decided to re-read this 2013 release – or, as in my case, have finally decided to read it. This, of course, has also been reflected not only in social media trends but on the New York Times bestseller list where Kevin Kwan’s debut novel has again easily nabbed a spot, despite having been originally released five years ago. I, myself, fell casualty to an impulse all book lovers are prone to: buying a book because of its cover! I bought a copy of Crazy Rich Asians when it was first released because the sparkly gold cover drew my eye – and my wallet, apparently – like a magpie to all that glitters. So, when I put out the poll last month for which book I should read next, I was glad that this one won (by a LANDSLIDE, mind you) because I already had a shiny copy with an in-tact spine on my shelves ready to read!
Crazy Rich Asians is exactly what you’d expect with such a loud and gaudy title and the sparkly cover to match. The gist of the novel is that the ultra hunky Nicholas Young falls in love with Rachel Chu and decides to bring her to Singapore for his best friend’s wedding of the century event to introduce her to his folks…and all of the lavishness that comes with it. Rachel, having never known her beau was FILTHY RICH is shocked by what she finds—and the viciousness of his family and friends—toward her when she arrives. A series of comical events ensues over this few weeks, which we, the readers, are privy to.
The first thing you’ll notice, from page one, is that Crazy Rich Asians is ALL THE WAY OVER THE TOP as if Kwan just threw every lavish thing he could think of in there, including the deluxe, chef-grade kitchen sink! But, isn’t that what we picked this novel up for – a fun, feisty read that can be enjoyed simply for the setting and hilarity of it. This book was soaked in Asian culture, which was an added bonus I absolutely loved—from the Hokkien and Mandarin slang littered throughout the pages (thanks, Kwan, for the footnotes!) to the description of native dishes and cultural values. The scale of wealth, customs and rituals Kwan shows us is larger than life in all the most uproarious ways.
Of course, let’s be honest here: a novel like this is bound to be a bit over-embellished, like biting into a too-sweet Godiva chocolate bar, and that it was. But I enjoyed that bit of decadence; in that way, this book really lived up to its name – and the hype!
I will say that there were WAY too many POVs and unnecessary story lines here, which certainly contributed to the extravagant and superfluous page count. At times, pages upon pages were spent just describing the luxuriousness of these characters’ surroundings. In a single paragraph you’ll find references like: Venus de Milo, Battenberg lace tablecloth, and Louis Quatorze chairs in royal blue brocade. (And I found that by flipping to any random page lol.) Yet, to go along with this over-the-top style of writing—that we’ve all come to love enough to want to go see the film about it—the dialogue within these pages was always light and realistic, outrageous and totally hilarious. Yes, the ending was sopped in melodrama, like a Taiwanese soap opera, and rushed, as if Kwan suddenly realized he was over or nearing the 400-page mark for this novel and suddenly decided to STOP and continue on with it in book two. BUT, in the end, Crazy Rich Asians delivered all that it promised: the humor and the fun along with the crazy, the rich and the Asians. And for that, I serve up on a Harry Winston platter 4 sparkly, Oscar de la Renta and Carolina Herrera-covered stars! ****
This novel was a trumped up work packaged and sold as the must-read of summer 2015. Of course, publishing houses are very good at packaging and sellinThis novel was a trumped up work packaged and sold as the must-read of summer 2015. Of course, publishing houses are very good at packaging and selling—that’s what they do—but this one must’ve had the PR agent from heaven! When it appeared on the NYT with its fashionable blurb, I instantly reached for it (all hail the power of sales), but upon reading it, I quickly found it to be an awkward collision between The Devil Wears Prada (though quite the lesser, copy-cat sort of version of it) and Columbine. Yes, try for a moment to imagine that!
The writing was immature, though there were moments where it managed the humorous tone that it was seeking: No man feels very much compelled to rip your clothes off after you inform him, bitchily, that he left one lone turd floating in the toilet is an example of both, offered fairly early in the novel. However, the juxtaposition between her old life and new was fairly amateurishly handled, and while Knoll tried to paint the picture of “girl with rough past makes it big,” the main character, Ani, really came off as whiny and spoiled and eye-roll-promptingly annoying. Unfortunately, there’s enough to read out there about the privileged WASPy female, so while I have no qualms reading it when done right, generally, no one needs another whiny heroine who fawns over Choo pumps and pink nail polish.
I will give it this nod though, the Columbine-esque overture was handled decently—that entire sequence did prompt page turning, and TifAni’s past sexual experiences were relatable to female readers, I’m sure. We all know of someone who’s encountered something similar (and for similar reasons). In that way, TifAni’s school-age character came off a little of a cliché, but it was a cliché worth exploring because she exists for a reason. And the way that TifAni's choices played out allowed Knoll to reach out and touch an audience that was wide enough, it seems, to propel this novel onto the NYT Bestseller List. In fact, the “past” chapters carried the novel much farther than the “present-day” chapters ever could have.
With that in mind, this one would have been much better if she’d been able to carry that tone throughout because, in a lot of ways, TifAni’s voice was more mature than Ani’s, a regression in tone that irked me to no end, proffered only a snarky tone that often missed the mark and whininess that made her character the utmost annoying and hard to read, let alone like. ** 2.5 stars
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