Sorry to say, but the characters in The Shampoo Effect had the emotional intelligence of slugs, so it was hard to get into a story like that.

The premise was interesting enough. Caroline goes off to Greenhead to work on her writing and falls in love with local boy Van, who then introduces her to his ragtag group of close friends. But it soon comes out that his ex is pregnant with their child, and so chaos and hilarity ensues. Or rather, I thought hilarity would ensue. But instead, I just got a lot of whatever the female equivalent of bro vibes is and the sort of drunken idiocy I haven't seen since college frat parties.

All the characters in here were really something. Clueless, self-absorbed, mean and cliquey, they really embodied the worst of growing up (or not growing up, as the case may be). We follow them as they drank and did weed and mushrooms, acting like fools and occasionally throwing in a game of truth or dare just to liven things up. But lest you think this was a story about teenagers, they're actually adults in their thirties with children of their own.

And so the stupidity continues. The problems were real, but the way they dealt with them was distinctively immature. Everyone's favorite miscommunication trope was here in spades. Why say a simple sentence to your partner when you can hold it in for years? Why speak your mind when you can just smile and swallow your anger and let resentment fester? And so these hapless people carried on, unable to discern why they were unhappy with themselves and their partners.

This is written with an ensemble cast. And while I don't necessarily mind such a structure, it is imperative that each character feels distinct and stands out on their own. Otherwise, they all just blend together and you start having trouble keeping them apart. And unfortunately, that's what happened here.

When you have so many unpleasant, emotionally stunted characters, it can make the whole thing feel off-putting. What should've been a group of friends discovering themselves and growing wiser instead turns into a shallow spree of mean girls and guys learning lessons they should've figured out a decade ago.

Speaking of mean, at one point, the story references Mean Girls (one of the sharpest satires on the school experience from the female perspective), so I have to wonder if that was the author's intention. But without the humor and insight that made the film so successful, what we have left here was just... mean girls.

So I leave this review with a selection of quotes from the book, all of them gems.

She had checked her reflection and noticed, with complete horror, a hair poking from her chin. She had tried to grab it with her fingernails, but it had been futile, and so she’d spent the entire walk trying to hide her face.

She spent two hours studiously ignoring both the soccer and the other parents while she played with her phone. She knew it was antisocial, but she had real friends.

It was how they survived parenthood and life with small children: They took turns dosing themselves with weed, mushrooms, and booze, whatever made the hard edges softer.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Before I go on, I just want to point out that I see nothing but glowing reviews for this book, so please keep that in mind. My thoughts are definitely in the minority, and I'll try my best to unpack them all here.

When it comes to literary fiction, it can be tough right out of the gate because they don't rely on plot the way genre fiction does. Instead, they draw you in with their complex characters and beautiful writing and ultimately, profound insight into human nature. So when I don't get any of that, it can be hard for me to connect with the story.

Let's start with the characters. I feel like we're always drawn to stories where the characters mirror the phase of life we're currently in. And so that was the case with April and Leo for me—they've been married for many years and have young children. This phase comes with a lot of excitement, no doubt, but it also brings unique challenges, so I was particularly curious to see how the characters would tackle them.

But almost immediately, I started having trouble. The characters don't come across as quite real. Or rather, they feel more like generalizations of what people in these situations would do and say, rather than actual individuals. There's an oversimplification and shallowness to their issues, feelings, and actions that started from almost the first page and became more and more pronounced as the story progressed, until I could no longer shrug it off.

And because the characters were stereotypes, the story followed that trajectory too. At every moment, what you think would happen does indeed happen. There were no real surprises, no actual revelations. And while I don't read a story like this for its twists and turns, I do read it for its insight, and there were none to be found here.

The writing style didn't help. Every scene of significance was followed up with tons of commentary about how the character thinks and feels, thereby telling you the reader how you should think and feel too. It is essentially telling thinly disguised as showing, and I'm not a fan. I always prefer understated writing, and this type of overwritten, overexplanatory fluff makes me feel like the author doesn't trust me enough to follow along.

When you put those sorts of characters and that type of writing together, what you end up with is a whole lot of clichés. And so as the story progressed and the stakes became higher, so did the amount of platitudes we were hit with over and over again.

This is also told via multiple points of view, and it was probably one too many. There was the central issue, which was April and Leo's house burning down along with their marriage. And then there was Deb and Billy's issue, which was really a separate storyline altogether. But by putting so many people and multiple big problems into one book, it means that there really isn't the necessary space for in-depth exploration and we get only surface level treatment across the board.

I also have to specifically call out April and Leo's marriage problems, which was at the crux of this story. I get what the author was trying to do. She was trying to show us that in a relationship, each person brings their own baggage into it and bad feelings can fester over time. But what actually transpired was just a whole lot of miscommunication. Or rather, a willful lack of communication on Leo's part, which he uses to stonewall and gaslight his wife at the lowest point of her life.

Please. The number of stories I have read in recent years in which authors try to pass off toxic relationships driven by one person as an all-parties-are-equally-at-fault extravaganza has got to stop. April, you need to run away. And Leo, you need to go to therapy. And all you readers who loved this book isn't going to convince me otherwise.

I'm looking at the sea of glowing reviews and can only imagine the problem is me. At the end of the day, I never really connected with the characters in this book. And when it comes to character-driven stories, that's pretty much the only thing that matters.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

When it comes to satire, Kevin Kwan understands the assignment. So it's no surprise that China Rich Girlfriend is just as fun, just as frothy, and just as sharply insightful as its predecessor.

Stepping into the sophomore book of an author who has hit it out of the park with their debut, I'm always a bit uncertain. Did I hallucinate my enjoyment? Was it a one hit wonder? Can the author really recreate the magic once again? Well, now that I've read a few Kevin Kwan books, I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. I didn't imagine it, it wasn't in my head. Kwan writes satire aimed straight at my heart and my funny bone, and I'm happy to soak up every single line.

The characters, their drama and antics, the peculiar situations they find themselves in, all feel both outrageous and familiar. Reading this was like stepping back into a culture I knew intimately. The expectation of filial piety, the inability of different generations to communicate effectively, the preference to acquire things over experiences, all made so much sense to me.

In a satire, the characters are key. Fleshing them out and imbuing them with humanity is how you ground the story and prevent it from turning into a mockery. And Kwan does so masterfully. I empathized with all the characters, I understood why they do what they do. Even the most abrasive among them never turn into caricatures, and that's skillful indeed.

It was fun to see some of the side characters of the first book get their due in this one. Everyone wanted more of Astrid, and this book certainly brings that wish to fruition. But my surprise favorite was Kitty Pong, the butt of the joke in the first book, but a leading lady here. She and Corinna really stole the show in this one, and Corinna's dossier for Kitty was one of the real highlights of the book.

I'm amazed at how much authentic details Kwan is able to add into all of his stories. The art, the fashion, the history all come from the real world, and they help make this feel borderline biographic. It might be fun to read dishy gossip about made-up characters, but to read about ones that actually come across as real? That takes it to a whole 'nother level.

I also have to give a nod to the setting. It was a joy to experience Shanghai, the city of my birth and early years, through the eyes of this story. I am forever missing this glittering metropolis with its delicious food and vivid skylines, so I definitely won't say no to such a sensational visit, even if it's just within the pages of a book.

I'm finding myself enjoying Kevin Kwan more and more. He really has an eye for social commentary, and his satirical take on crazy Asian families is the best combination of honest and funny. He sees the absurdity in human nature and paints all that folly in such delightful strokes, I have no choice but to laugh and revel in it with him.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Was this supposed to funny? Cause I didn't laugh.

Going in, I thought Yesteryear would be a slam dunk for me. But now I've found myself in the unexpected position of being just about the only one who didn't like it.

I thought this story was going to be about a traditional wife, one who wants to stay at home and revel in the domesticity of child rearing, cleaning, and cooking, all the while playing it up for the cameras of her social media account. And then one day, she actually wakes up in the 1800s and bumbles around, much to her consternation and our amusement. Now wouldn't that have been an interesting story? But instead, I got something else altogether.

You see, Natalie doesn't revel in the role. She only pretends to. Instead of spending her life doing what she actually enjoys, she inexplicably tortures herself into living a life she can't stand and faking her enjoyment of it, all the while looking down at every single person who doesn't adhere to her view of what a traditional woman should be. And so right off the bat, I'm confused. Because what exactly is the point here?

As is every story, it all comes down to the characters. And Natalie never gelled into a real, coherent one for me. She hates being a mother, but keeps having more kids. She hates farming, but insists on living on a farm. She doesn't like her husband, but screams at her sister for divorcing. And through it all, she documents every step for social media just so she can pretend some more. Yeah, I didn't get it.

There's a level of cynicism here that was hard to stomach. Natalie had a constant, internal dialogue of hate towards just about everyone who wasn't her, and it was painful to read. She viewed herself as a victim with no choice, even though every decision was hers the whole way through and she could've stopped at any time.

But Natalie isn't real, she's the creation of the author. So I feel like I'm forced to ask why Caro Claire Burke chose to write Natalie this way. It felt unnecessarily mean-spirited and cruel. Sure, there are women out there who want to have lots of kids and make every meal from scratch and let their husbands be the sole breadwinner of the family. But so what? I certainly wouldn't write a whole story just to make fun of them.

I understand this is supposed to be satire, but it really missed the mark. Satire isn't just the act of mocking. In order to be effective, it also has to say something of substance. But the problem here is that even when presented with a slew of worthwhile topics, the book instead chose to eschew them all in favor of returning again and again to focus how deranged Natalie is, all the while punishing her for her views.

When you go so over the top, you end up losing the humanity underneath, and it becomes harder to see these characters as real people. Instead of being subversive and feminist, this book actually reinforces the awful idea that women are crazy and can't be trusted to figure out what they really want.

And maybe that's at the crux of my negative feelings. When you create a character that's so spiteful and unhinged, you're essentially walking them down a path of mental illness. And I guess I just don't find yet another story about a woman acting crazy and being perceived as mentally ill to be that funny.

I'm looking at the wide gulf between my thoughts and everyone else's, and I'm honestly puzzled. Perhaps I read a different book. Or I just lack the sense of humor necessary to understand this one. Either way, I'm in the minority, so don't let me dissuade you from giving it a try.

Your mother lies to you, and then you lie to your children, and then your children lie to their children, and then you are an old woman, looking back at your own life, lying to yourself.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Call me crazy, but could Kevin Kwan be the Jane Austen of our era? Cause from where I’m sitting, the similarities couldn’t be more striking.

But let's talk about the book first. Going in, I thought I was getting a zany romantic comedy. But instead of your typical white representation, we get two Asians, one of whom comes from an extremely wealthy though misbehaving family. And I would've been happy with that. At the time this book came out, it was extremely rare to see ethnic Chinese characters as the main love interests, so to get even that made me really excited. But this turned out to be so much more.

Because the thing is, this isn't a romcom. And it isn't chicklit either. Crazy Rich Asians is a social satire, and the distinction makes all the difference. The point of this story isn't to read it with full earnestness while cheering on Rachel and Nick and marveling at the opulent wealth and cringing at the excessive displays. Yes, you can do that, but it's also crucial to understand that the over the top extravaganza is simply a vehicle for Kwan to critique the social norms and structures of our time, and in the process, make us laugh.

I was amazed at how Kwan was able to peel back the layers and keenly sketch out all the characteristics of growing up Chinese, including the enormous pressure to succeed along the narrowest of lines, the expectation to bow to familial demands, and the emphasis on face and appearance. The juxtaposition of Nick and Rachel and the way they approach their families really highlights the difference between the East and the West, and how hard it can be for the two sides to understand each other.

And through it all, Kwan injected so much fun and humor into this. I normally can't stand to read about Asian family dysfunctions because it hits too close to home. But here, Kwan was able to take raw and tender subjects and turn them into comical events, all the while honestly examining the beauty and ugliness within. The strife and the feelings in here were spot on, but they made me laugh instead of cry.

It's worth talking about the film adaptation for a second. So this is another example where it pays to read the book because the film just doesn't do it justice. The book was such a carefully constructed satire, but the adaptation slashed out all the social commentary and ironic humor, and turned it into a heartfelt romcom. While there's nothing wrong with that and I'm a fan of the movie, it really doesn't hold a candle to the original material.

Now back to Jane Austen. She, too, was a satirist. Social satire was the backbone of her work, and she wielded her characters, her dialogue, her wit, all to critique social structures and norms of her time. And so Kevin Kwan does too, both of them exploring human nature and exposing all of its follies and foibles in the pages of their stories. They both focused a lot on class, wealth, and social hierarchy, using the romantic pairing of a poorer character with a richer one to showcase the extent that vanity, snobbery, and greed play in our lives.

I've been a fan of Kevin Kwan for some time now and have read most of his books, some of them more than once. But it wasn't until recently when I read a few of Jane Austen's that I finally put two and two together. And once I saw the resemblance, I couldn't unsee it anymore. Kwan must have been a big Austen fan, and it shows in the way he carefully crafted this tale. It is both a scintillating triumph in its own right, as well as a reverential nod to the OG of social satire.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Who can know what will come? Today, a kingdom. A life where you eat and drink from dreams. Tomorrow, the dirt of the grave to rub on your mouth.

Talk about a powerful, compelling, utterly riveting story. When people say reading is an exercise in empathy, surely this is the consummate example of that.

Some books really get to you. And I knew from the very first page that Good People would get to me. How could I not read a story about immigrants who gave up their home, their language, their culture, everything they knew and loved, all to move somewhere foreign and build a new life for their family, and not feel something stirring in my immigrant heart?

Rahmat and Maryam remind me of my parents, working so hard to give their children the opportunity of a better life. And Omer and Zorah remind me of myself, with all that intense pressure to succeed and the constant push and pull between the old and new. And if this book was just about the immigrant experience, I would've loved it already. But it was so much more.

It's written like a mystery, and bit by bit, we learned what happened to Zorah and her family. I feel like my heart was pounding the whole time, wanting to know more, yet afraid of what I will learn.

As is every great book ever written, it's not about the plot, it's about the characters. And the ones in here are so flawed and so real, it was almost too much to take at times. I felt for every single person in here as their human nature (and so ours too) was laid bare on the pages.

The format added to the appeal. It's written like a documentary, told via interview transcripts with the different friends and acquittances of the family. You would think with so many different viewpoints and narrators, it would get confusing. But it wasn't. The focus was always solidly on the family, and they remain the center of our story.

The unusual structure paved the way for the goal of this story, which was to provide a composite, often disparate view of the family. Are they the good immigrants, working hard to achieve the American Dream? Or are they old and stubborn, unable to change and assimilate in a new country? Are they humble in their achievements? Or do they allow their children to spoil and run wild?

As the story progressed, I didn't know what to think. Every new page was another color in the kaleidoscope, but how did they all fit together? I've seen mysteries done a lot of different ways, but this was such a unique and bold take on the genre, and the journey and resolution were altogether nothing short of striking.

We touch upon so many worthwhile topics along the way. Everything was seamlessly woven in and done with such a subtle and deft hand, that it never felt forced or preachy. There is no black or white, only so many shades of grey in between. And I nodded along to every insightful morsel, gobbling it up and storing it in my mind to mull over in the days and weeks to come.

For how thought provoking this book was, it was also eminently readable. I know there's been a recent trend to bill every vaguely interesting book as a one-sit read, but it's no exaggeration here. Once you start, you won't want to stop. This was such a fast, engrossing read, the hours will fly by until you've reached the very last page.

This story worked on every single level—riveting and unputdownable, a terrific mystery, but also underneath, many many layers to think about and digest. It's one of those books that indelibility changes who you are, and the version of you after will forever be slightly altered from the version before.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

For a fictional biography to work, it's almost entirely hinged on its characters. They really have to shine, convincing us that people who have never existed are in fact real. But the ones in The Future Saints are so bland, they never truly came alive. They lacked personality, clinging to the sort of superficiality that hobbled them the entire time.

Who is Hannah other than someone who loves and misses her sister? How do I tell the other two members of the band apart? What does Theo even see in Hannah? The book never adequately addressed these crucial questions, and so my feelings toward the characters remained fuzzy and ambivalent.

Character depth matter, never more so than when it's a character-driven story. And so here, it was an uphill climb almost the whole way to try to differentiate and connect with these rather lackluster ones.

But perhaps the blame lies with me. All the comparisons to Daisy Jones had me thinking this was a fictional rock 'n' roll biography. But it was less that and more written in the style of women's fiction, with explorations of grief and addiction and a love story embedded in, and the rock 'n' roll provided the setting rather than the focus.

About halfway through, I finally started getting into the story. But even then, I didn't feel much for the band. My favorite character was Theo, whose earnestness and sobriety and desire to help others finally won me over.

This was fine. But I think I just expected more. The writing, the characters, even the events in the story, all felt more generic than memorable, which just doesn't line up with my expectations of what a fictional biography, let alone a rock 'n' roll one, should be.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

"Cause of death, age of death."

There are certain themes that speak to just about every reader, and the idea of learning your future is one of them. What would you do if you knew how long you had left to live? Would you try to change the outcome for the better, or just surrender to destiny? Those are the thoughts that every single passenger on the flight from Hobart to Sydney would grapple with in the weeks and months following that fateful journey.

But the problem with that theme is that inevitably, the premise is more profound than what comes after. And so here, we have the same problem. After the portentous event, we follow multiple characters as they go back to living their lives, and they're all the sort of somewhat interesting but mostly humdrum lives you'd expect of anyone learning they could (or could not) die in the near (or far) future.

I don't blame Liane Moriarty, at least not entirely. I can't recall a single time any book has tried to tackle this theme and ended up wowing me. No doubt it's a seductive topic, but it's one where when you dig a little deeper, the result can only be one cliché after another — live each day as if it's your last, do the thing you've been putting off, don't let love pass you by, open your eyes to what's in front of you, so on and so forth.

But what I do blame Liane Moriarty for is the extreme unevenness between the various points of view. In true ensemble cast style, every character must have a turn, no matter how compelling or dull their perspectives. And it's just our luck that the one Moriarty chooses to focus on the most, the lady who makes the predictions, is the dullest of them all.

At least with the other characters' points of view, they have all just learned of their supposed demise, and so there is something worthwhile and interesting to fixate on. But with Cherry, there isn't anything of that sort. She's the catalyst of everyone else's crisis, but she herself is rather boring, fussy, and even a bit unlikeable. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, we are forced to read through her entire origin story, and it really sucked the life out of the whole tale.

I'm honestly puzzled. This book was way too long for its content, and we could've easily trimmed off the bulk of the meander by condensing or even axing Cherry's point of view. But as it stands, her parts were such a nonstory, they just added dull upon dull to the narrative. I thought maybe her account was included because we would eventually come upon some incredible revelation or insight, but no, I read/skimmed through it all just to be sure there wasn't.

Liane Moriarty does best when she focuses on dysfunctional domestic drama while adding in her signature sprinkles of wit and satire. But this story veered too far off course. Even though some of the characters were interesting, the Cherry narrative really dragged the whole thing down and left me with a rather tedious taste in my mouth.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

She would figure it out. Because it was impossible that there was no solution. People had babies all the time and somehow managed it.

When a book is described as "wholly original," I admit it makes me a little bit hesitant. What does that mean? Is it original because it contains the sort of fun heretofore unseen, or is it original because no one was crazy enough to have put such ideas to paper before? Then you throw in a premise that includes OnlyFans and pro wrestling, and well really, what the heck are we even talking about here?

But I've been in a reading slump for months now and needed something to shake me out. So I reached for Margo's Got Money Troubles not expecting much, and boy oh boy, did it deliver in every single way.

Right off the bat, I was captivated. The first thing I noticed was the writing, how sharp and persuasive and just gosh darn funny it was. I'm trying to think of the last book that made me chuckle so hard, and I'm coming up empty. All that humor in here was the perfect medium through which more serious topics could be tackled and explored without coming across preachy or righteous.

And this book did not shy away from serious topics—teenage motherhood, love affair with a teacher, pornography, selling one's body, addiction, and of course, how to make money and a life for yourself and your baby when you have no viable skills. But everything was done with such a subtle hand and delightful tone that you hardly realize you're reading something profound when you're having so much fun.

The characters in here were sketched with such acute clarity, it's hard to not take them for real. Margo is exactly the sort of sweet, smart, and spirited character I can love and cheer for. Yes, bad things happened to her, but she doesn't let that get her down. In fact, every side character in here is their own version of loveable, and it makes reading this story even more of a delight from beginning to end.

Honestly, this was such an exuberant and feelgood story, one I didn't even know I needed. Looking back on it, I'm still not sure I could properly describe it or put it in a box, just because I've never read anything quite like it before. But I do know it was a hell of an entertaining and insightful read. If you're like me and have been hesitating on this book, just go pick it up.

P.S. How is it I've never heard of Rufi Thorpe until now? All her books are going straight onto my TBR.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

I've got to hand it to Liane Moriarty. Apples Never Fall has got to be one of the most scintillating family dramas I've ever read.

Joy Delaney, beloved wife and mother of four, has disappeared. Her adult children are rightfully aghast, but they're reluctant to report her missing. They know the prime suspect will be their father, and to be honest, they're not quite sure of his innocence. When the police starts asking questions, it quickly becomes clear everyone in the family has stories to tell and secrets to hide. But how long can they hold out before all is laid bare?

First and foremost, this is a story about dysfunctional families, and I just love me a good one of those. Every member of the Delaney family is distinct and compelling, and when you throw in the game of tennis, sibling rivalries, the mother's disappearance, and that decidedly strange interloper to their family home, the tale gets interesting real quick.

I can't get over the premise. It's such a fascinating dilemma, and I couldn't stop myself from chewing it over. What would I do in this situation—would I side with my father or against him if I suspected he murdered my mother? I love a good moral quandary, and this story perfectly captured the nuances that such a predicament would bring to a family.

What I've always adored about Moriarty's writing is her sharp and astute observations about people and their flaws. She has this ability to peel back the layers of family relationships and what it means to be human, and to expose everything beautiful and ugly within, all the while injecting just the right amount of humor. This book hit upon tender subjects familiar to everyone, yet instead of making me cry, it made me laugh.

Needless to say, I found the whole thing to be utterly riveting. The characters were memorable, the dialogue snappy, and the strife felt all too real. I devoured it in just a few days. And while the mystery wasn't the core of this book, there were still plenty of revelations along the way to keep me on my toes.

If I had one quibble, it would have to be the ending. I'm not a fan of when a story is clearly wrapped up, and then the author goes on to continue some more, often to its detriment. And that's kind of what happened here. The last few chapters really weren't necessary, and including them caused the story to veer off course and end on a slight odd note. But that's a minor complaint, and I could very well ignore that last bit in my head (which I've already done) in favor of the rest of the story.

If you're considering this, do keep one thing in mind—to properly enjoy it, you have to have the right mindset. This isn't a mystery/thriller and you would be sorely disappointed if you went in expecting that. In fact, this isn't even its milder domestic suspense cousin. This is straight up a dysfunctional family drama, and Joy's disappearance is simply a plot device used to drive the narrative forward.

I feel like when Liane Moriarty writes what she knows best, there's almost nothing better. And this tale of the dysfunctional Delaney family certainly turned out to be quite the startling and dazzling gem.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

I know that Chloe normally looks more put together, but compared to a corpse, I must look okay, right?

Huh, I don't quite know how to feel about this. Suffice to say, this is one of the more unhinged books I've read in quite some time.

Julie Chan has always been envious of her twin Chloe's life. While Julie rotted away under the care of her abusive aunt after their parents died, Chloe was adopted by a wealthy white couple and grew up amidst money and luxury. When Chloe became a famous influencer, Julie followed from afar, glimpsing into what could've been her life, if only. So when Chloe suddenly dies, Julie naturally seizes the chance to live her twin's life. But the longer Julie masquerades as Chloe, the more she starts to realize that something is amiss.

I have to admit, the part of the premise that got me to read this book was the twin switcheroo bit. It felt very Lindsay Lohan and The Parent Trap. That was such a memorable movie from my childhood, I figured if this switcheroo was half as fun, it'd be worth the read. And it was fun, but with some caveats (and a lot of cringing).

First, this story is crazy, like really unhinged, insane, heretofore unseen levels of crazy. It starts out with a pretty wacky premise and it only gets more so from there. Not only is the plotline crazy, but so is each and every one of the characters. So you've been warned. It's best to just lay back and enjoy the ride, and not worry about how it may or may not be based in reality.

Second, this is very much geared towards a certain audience, and truth be told, that's where I started to feel a disconnect with the story. You know, I'm not that hip and I'm certainly not that young, so there were a lot of references and even some lingo in here I've never heard of before. I also don't TikTok, YouTube, Twitch, or even Instagram much, and I certainly don't follow any influencers or care about their lifestyles. So I definitely felt a bit like an outsider reading this story.

Also, I floundered trying to determine the meaning behind this tale. The lack of likable characters and character growth made it hard to discern something out of the pure chaos this ended up being. And maybe there is no more meaningful message here other than that it's a good story, and I'm trying to make something out of nothing. But I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, and I was waiting for more.

It's clear this is a satire, but for me, in order for that to work, I have to be able to relate to the characters and also understand the underlying commentary. And I just couldn't quite get there on both fronts with this one.

Still, I was impressed with this debut's ability to keep me engaged, even through its zanier moments. In the end, it was a fun/cringey way to spend a few hours, so I can't complain too much.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

But then when the anger fades, the sadness comes right back again the same as ever.

Oh my word! Anne Tyler, where have you been all my life?

On the surface, this seems like such a simple story. We follow Gail Baines on the eve of her daughter's wedding, where everything is set to go off without a hitch. So then why does Gail feel somewhat disappointed that she wasn't invited to the bridal spa day, whatever that is? On top of that, she has just found out that she might be losing her job at age sixty-one. And then Gail's ex-husband shows up at her house with a cat in tow, and it really is starting to feel like more than she bargained for.

What a understated, yet poignant little novella this turned out to be. While not much happens on the surface, it feels so sharp and observant underneath. Every scene is one lifted out of everyday life, but infused with so much meaning and emotion and humor. And together, they constitute a glimpse into a life well-lived but also one full of human follies.

Maybe one reason this works so well is that the author chose to keep it short. It's a novella, so the story doesn't go on longer than there is content for. It's as long as it needs to be, and then it's wrapped up. So every scene in here feels like it was put there with meaning and impact.

I loved the messages in here, that every life and every relationship can be joyful but also quietly messy. And that as we grow older, we needn't always remain exactly the same, that there is room and opportunity for change and second chances and discovery and rediscovery. And while such a message and delivery is not nearly as dramatic as most thrillers would have you believe is necessary, the quiet drama in here hits so much harder than those over the top ones ever could.

I cannot believe Anne Tyler has written twenty-five novels, and this is only my first by her. I feel like I have been looking for writing like this for a long time. Even though I am late to the party, I'm glad to have finally arrived. And now I've got her long backlist to keep me busy.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars