It was some years ago. The novel didn't end up grabbing me and I kept checking the clock on the wall of the bookstore I'd found it in, waiting to hear my friend (my ride) approach and say they were ready to leave. I had quickly lost interest in the story and in the angst of a teenager, which I hope you can understand because I had only recently started breaking free of that mindset. One plot line was a high school boy searching doggedly for his biological father, hoping it was a rough-hewn rock musician of whom he was a fan. The gist was that this kid was learning a lot more about his character, his need to be a little patient about finding his bio-dad, since some things in life come your way over time, you just have to wait, and he also received a sucker punch from reality. These things happen. I understand that I didn't get a good grasp of the story; I understand it to the point where years later, I remember the cover of Born to Rock and the weight of all the pages I didn't read, but my flopping most of the paperback from my pinkie to thumb was bound to happen. The book's spine dug into my palm in a way I'm so used to that by now, there's probably a permanent groove in each hand. Don't get me wrong, I judged myself for missing most of the story, but at the same time, maybe I was too old for it.
Having said that, I'm reading a book right now titled I Take You - one of those quick reads with a bright cover that's perfect for summertime, about
This book surprised me with the main character and her fiance having sex, and I didn't expect her to tap her nose at her friend the next day and have it be code for doing some coke, but I should've seen that coming, since the narrator's so very impulsive, she is what Katy Perry would call, "high frequency". Coked up and horny, the narrator, Lily, started planning the seating arrangement for her pending wedding in a scene that made me laugh out loud! She was out of control and her family was very supportive anyway. But...there was so little sympathy. She didn't look at things from her fiance's perspective enough and didn't respect his parents at all or take her job seriously or have much of any regard for anyone's pesky emotions. If she cares so little about the things that make us social creatures, why should I care about her? The teenager pushing to make a rock star his father was a lot more relatable than this buzzing lawyer with a drinking problem.
In fact, I care more about the fiance than I do about the main character. The fiance is an archaeologist and proposed to his crazy lady friend a matter of months after meeting and never bothered to get to know her very well before happily diving headfirst into planning a wedding in Florida. What a weirdo. I haven't finished the book yet, by the way. Maybe Carrie from the awful Sex & the City novel should scurry in her Louboutins from her Manhattan apartment to his and score a marriage of convenience.
(side note: *gasp* I should be a matchmaker for fictional people!)
Any man willing to mindlessly get legally hitched to Lily and walk around his whole life with the name Wilberforce (regardless of the fact that it was a family name, it's still weird) deserves to learn his lesson.
Thank the aunts and mother-in-law and female Freddy for my commitment because despite the fact that the main character is as incredibly self-centered as Tucker Max, I don't think I'll be skipping anything of I Take You. What does that say for my taste?
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