It’s time again to catalogue the books I’ve tried to read — and I mean really, really tried — but just couldn’t stomach in the end. It’s just a personal preference, friends; my massive dislike of these books may translate to a total romantic love affair for you.

But as it stands? They’re on my bad list. Or, you know, my “could not finish” list.


Spooky Little Girl by Laurie Notaro
Where I stopped: page 104

Oh, Laurie Notaro . . . Laurie Notaro. Why are you doing this to me? I’m completely obsessed with your memoirs, which are easily some of the funniest things I’ve ever read in my life — but your novels? They’re just dry. Drier than pork chops. I hate pork chops. And I really disliked this book.

I picked up Spooky Little Girl without even a vague idea of the plot, which turned out to be a mistake — because hey, this was weird. Lucy has recently come home from a vacation to find all her worldly possessions tossed out on her front lawn — and her fiance, or ex-fiance, is nowhere to be found. After moving in with her sister, Lucy has a particularly bad day . . . when she’s suddenly killed and winds up in purgatory. Or is it? Nope — it’s Ghost School, and Lucy is expected to be a star pupil. She winds up there, some stuff happens, I get confused . . . and put the book down.

After reading more than 100 pages, this just didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Plus? Well, it was morbid. Attending your own funeral — a funeral which no one, including your recent ex-fiance, attends? Ghost school? Dead people in general? Meh. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t in the mood. Though it sounds like if I’d stuck with the book I could have been introduced to Lucy’s funny, fresh grandmother, I couldn’t make it that far.

The third-person perspective also failed to move me, thereby strengthening my prejudice against any novel not told with an “I” voice. I want to feel the feelings; I want to be the character. I’m selfish and want an all-access pass to someone’s brain. Unless done incredibly well, third-person narration just doesn’t work for me.

Currently, it has an average score of 3.59/5 on Goodreads based on 374 ratings.

Other takes:
S. Krishna’s Books (4.5/5 stars)
HuntingtownNews.net (positive)
Sharon’s Garden of Book Reviews (positive)



Secret Lives Of Husbands And Wives by Josie Brown
Where I stopped: page 81

Picked up at the Book Blogger Convention this year, I was initially eager to tackle Brown’s women’s fiction novel. That enthusiasm quickly faded, however, as I was struck down by my most dreaded of all literary problems: Too Many Characters-itis.

I’ve complained about it many times. When you bombard me with too many women who are way too similar, I can’t discern one from the other — and I quickly lose interest. If I feel like I have to make a map and scrawl attributes next to each name, I’m going to get annoyed. And then? And then I stop reading the book. Not always, sure, but this time — I couldn’t stomach it.

I started this book more than a month ago and plowed through more than 80 pages before I gave up. It was obvious exactly where it was going, and I had no vested interest in any of the characters I was currently spending time with. The bit of “mystery” surrounding one man’s divorce in Paradise Heights, an uppity California neighorhood, was no real mystery to me — and, when I was sure I wouldn’t be finishing this one, I flipped to the epilogue. And everything I’d guessed from the beginning? Yep. True. All true. If I’d stuck with it, I can’t help but feel like I would have wasted my time.

Currently, it has an average score of 3.81/5 on Goodreads based on 54 ratings.

Other takes:
BookNAround
Amy Reads (2.5/5 stars)
So Many Books, So Little Time (3.5/5 stars)

Life seems to be looking up for Holly Denham. Her adorable boyfriend, Toby, is suave and attentive; her receptionist position at a high-powered bank in London keeps her busy while also providing ample opportunity to socialize. But when Holly (finally!) earns a promotion, there’s someone eager to tear her down: Tanya, a snobby fellow manager with her sights set on Toby. And she’s ready to tackle Holly’s confidence to the ground just when her other relationships become tenuous. Can she hold strong?

Through a series of daily emails, Holly’s Inbox: Scandal In The City — the sequel to the  highly entertaining Holly’s Inbox – reveals far more about a group of characters than you’d expect from a tome filled with only electronic correspondence. Holly is as charmingly disheveled as ever, though trying to put a hold on her partying ways long enough to earn some clout with her employers.

This series’ charm comes through its ability to tap into that voyeuristic side in all of us. If a coworker you may or may not like stepped away from their desk, leaving Outlook or Gmail open in full view, would you be able to resist the siren call of snooping? I’d like to think I could, but who knows. That same urge to sift through someone’s medicine cabinet, book collection or purse is what makes Holly’s Inbox so compelling.

Unfortunately, what worked so well for me in the original lost a bit of its luster in the sequel. Reading Holly’s emails in the first novel felt like a fresh endeavor, but here? Well, I feel like I’ve read it all before. My curiosity was satisfied. Favorite characters like well-meaning best friends Jason and Aisha have returned, along with fellow receptionist Trisha, but newcomers like Tanya felt less like real people and more like archetypical “villains” — and people I wouldn’t actually know. Plus, the juxtaposition of Holly advancing in her career while still acting ridiculous in her personal life — drinking herself into oblivion; generally acting like a debauched teenager — didn’t quite add up for me. If she’s such a dynamo on the job, how can she be such a screw-up on her own time?

Maybe that’s not unusual. Maybe I’m expecting a little too much from a fun, light-hearted read. I didn’t consume this one as quickly as I did the first, and found myself less enthused at Holly as a character than I once was. Still, fans of British chick lit who also enjoy the epistolary style will probably enjoy Holly’s misadventures. If you’re new to the Denham books, I’d recommend starting at the beginning — and then maybe we’ll decide our girl isn’t beyond redemption after all.


3.5 out of 5!

ISBN: 1402241143 ♥ Purchase from AmazonAuthor Website
Personal copy purchased by Meg

Home again, friends, and I’ll say this: it’s incredibly difficult coming home from a fabulous weekend, especially when you find yourself back at your desk in less than 12 hours. Good thing I have a Diet Coke, granola bar and some fabulous memories to fuel my morning.

Spencer’s family couldn’t have been any kinder, and I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed — even at the beach. Though I had my trusty Palm Pre with me to upload an occasional photo to Twitter or scan my email, I wasn’t walking around Niagara Falls clutching a piece of technology. What I was clutching? My camera and Spencer’s hand. And it felt amazing.

They really rolled out the red carpet for me and made me feel so warm and welcomed, and the entire time I was gone I just kept thinking: I’m so happy. His mom made so many awesome plans for us and took me all over the area, where I definitely felt like I was away from it all. Growing up in the suburbs, a land of strip malls with a  Starbucks on every corner, it’s hard to envision wide open spaces. But New York has them — in spades. And it was just fun to be there with such great people and my amazing boyfriend, seeing the place where he grew up. I knew him well before, but I feel like I know him in a different way now. A more complete way.

Oddly enough, I didn’t get much reading done — mostly because I was socializing, traveling, driving about and eating (oh, eating. Lots of eating!). Mockingjay was tucked in my bag through my entire stay, but I only cracked the cover once and read about 10 pages. So I still don’t know what’s become of Katniss, Gale and Peeta, and I’m going to have to tread lightly around the blogosphere until I figure it out! But that should be quite all right.

While I was out, I learned I’d been shortlisted in the Book Blogger Appreciation Awards for Best Written Book Blog and Best Eclectic Book Blog. What an honor — and I’m so excited for all the festivities in September! Thanks, everyone. Voting is open now to registered participants.

I’ll be posting photos from my trip to New York’s Buffalo, Niagara Falls, Jamestown, Chautauqua Lake and Gerry over the coming weeks — probably on Wordless Wednesdays, since that’s often how I roll — but wanted to whet your appetite with just a few snapshots! I took nearly 400 shots over the course of four days — enough to fill up my SD card, blast it — and barely had the energy to lift my head last night, let alone edit my shots. I did manage to get a few up straight out of the camera . . . with many more to come.


As the final send-off to a marvelous summer (which included — yes — a Foreigner concert), I’m heading to upstate New York with Spencer to visit his parents and meet his family — and I’m excited, but yes . . . I’m nervous. Everything will be fine, I know, and I’m sure we’ll have a great time — it’s just the pressure of making a good first impression that gets to me. I’ve been here before, but not with someone I cared about as much as I care about him. So that? Makes it all the more intense.

But I’m not thinking about it. Not. Thinking. About. It.

On a positive note, it’s currently 64 degrees in Gerry, New York, friends, and what does that mean? I get to pack a jacket. Jeans. Boots. Maybe a scarf. After a long, hot and terrible D.C. summer, I’m thrilled to be headed somewhere cooler! After quizzing Spencer last night about New York temperatures, he said, “I guess think of it being like October weather here.” And October weather? Well, that’s my favorite. So I’m pumped.

In other news, choosing what books to pack for a four-day, busy weekend has proved challenging. I need something for that one hour flight to Buffalo, of course, and I have to choose wisely. Too bad I haven’t found an entertaining book in a while . . . and that nothing new and incredibly exciting has been released lately.

Oh, wait . . .

Yeah. Mockingjay. Maybe you’ve heard of it?

Shuffling off to my local Borders, I’ll be picking up a copy on my lunch break today — and am beginning to understand why some folks actually took a whole day off of work to feast on the majesty. I remember being home and reading like a mad person the day after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pubbed, but I was also:

a) On summer vacation
b) A college student
c) Without a big girl job
d) Way more energetic than I am now.

So I’ll have to settle for stowing that gorgeous baby-blue beauty away with me and reading on the plane.

If I can keep my eyes open.

Which is looking doubtful.

I’ll be off enjoying the wonderful weekend in New York and offline, but be sure to check in with me on Twitter@writemeg — where I’ll be posting thoughts, sharing photos from Niagara Falls and generally continuing the #Mockingjay mayhem. See you all soon!

What I love about Jen Lancaster is that you feel like she could be your best friend. Your scary, loose cannon, OMG-what-is-she-going-to-say-next friend.

And sometimes? Well, sometimes those people are the most fun in the world to be around.

In her second memoir Bright Lights, Big Ass, Lancaster focuses on the realities of life in the city — and how, specifically, Chicago is nothing like the sparkly, doors-wide-open, exciting New York City that “Sex And The City” character Carrie Bradshaw is so apt to describe. Reality includes annoying neighbors, ridiculous prices, people who don’t like pets and problems with mass transporation. All told with Lancaster’s trademark snark, of course.

While her debut novel Bitter Is The New Black chronicled her fall from success and wealth to unemployment and near poverty, her next memoir finds Lancaster in a better place — financially and emotionally. She’s married to Fletch, her longtime love, and living in a decent-ish apartment with her bevy of beloved animals. She’s sold Bitter Is The New Black and is eagerly awaiting its publication. Here, each chapter in Bright Lights, Big Ass is an ode to some aspect of life in Chicago — and is filled with anecdotes regarding her love of Target, Starbucks and modern conveniences. As I am also a huge fan of those things, Lancaster’s book read like a series of messages from a buddy.

Maybe it’s because I’ve seen this song and dance before, but Bright Lights, Big Ass didn’t “wow” me the way her debut book did. I snorted, chortled and laughed until I cried many times, but I wasn’t desperate to read portions of it aloud to my sister or boyfriend. With a second book in the Lancaster’s distinct style, settling in with her prose is like getting a long catch-up email from an old friend: you know it’s going to be full of good stories and fodder for the dinner table, but it’s probably nothing you haven’t heard before.

Without the biting wit made famous through her blog Jennsylvania, Lancaster’s memoirs would seem like a laundry list of whining. But she hasn’t become a New York Times best selling author without being funnier than hell. And she is: spit-take-inducing, compulsively readable and hilarious. And though she can also be erudite and cruel at times, she has a good heart — it’s just layered under a casserole of sarcasm, angst and elitism. But that’s totally fine, because as long as she keeps churning out the funny? Well, I’ll be reading.

Pick this one up as a stand-alone, if you like, but I’d recommend grabbing the books in order; it’s fun to see Jen’s progression. If you’re new to Lancaster, read them as Bitter Is the New Black; Bright Lights, Big Ass; Such A Pretty Fat; Pretty In Plaid; and, last but not least, My Fair Lazy.


4 out of 5!

ISBN: 0451221257 ♥ Purchase from AmazonAuthor Website
Personal copy obtained through BookMooch

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