when the world felt dark and scary, love could whisk you off to go dancing; laughter could take some of the pain away; beauty could punch holes in your fear.
This is the debut novel of Emily Henry and I must say I kinda enjoyed it. Some things were a bit odd and unpolished but the general effect was nice. This is a story of a cold novelist writing drama/thrillers dating a recently grieving romance writer. As the two genres clash, the two authors make a pact to write each other’s style to see how it feels and in the meantime, they get to involve each other in their research process. This is “what if the shoe was on the other foot” scenario and it works quite well.
What I didn’t like so much was how often his ruffled hair, his crumpled shirts and his mouth were mentioned. OMG, stop it already, he’s disheveled, we get it! In a similar manner, her poor condition, her empty bank account, her comfy joggers and the constant deadline were mentioned ad nauseam. We get it! She needs this book to sell! That being said, I laughed when I started noticing this pattern and made a drinking game. Whenever his mouth is mentioned, I drink a cup of coffee.
His mouth acknowledged the room, I would say, and then his eyes caught on mine, and the higher of his mouth’s two corners twisted up
Drink two coffees!
Also – why do they keep mentioning the “coldly horny” male type?
Besides, why does everyone try to make women’s writing semiautobiographical? Do people generally assume your lonely, white, male—”
“Coldly horny,” Gus inserted.
“—coldly horny protagonists are you?”
He nodded thoughtfully, his dark eyes intent on me. “Good question. Do you assume I’m coldly horny?”
What even is “coldly horny” – is this like a new genre male? Instead of half naked with long hair like Fabio, we have a slightly nu-athletic, tall and horny male? Was it the same in “Love Theoretically” and “Love Hypothetically”?
That being said, the attraction between the two main characters (January and Augustus) is a bit on the low end. Mostly banter and her admiring his bony body (and angular features).
The rest of the plot is centered in two sections: January’s own dealings with her mother’s cancer diagnosis (twice) and having to transform herself into an always happy and optimist person as not to weigh on her parents – and her grief upon finding out after her father’s early passing that he’d been having a secret affair and even had another house at the beach.
The second plot point is a cult investigation that Augustus is conducting and the interviews with the people who escaped it before it all burned down when their leader went crazy.
Mom’s first diagnosis taught me that love was an escape rope, but it was her second diagnosis that taught me love could be a life vest when you were drowning.
Respect. Books are always an escape route when things get tough.
Good points about the book:
It’s strangely lyrical:
The sky was bright blue, an occasional fluffy cumulus cloud drifting lazily past, and the sunlight painted the rustling treetops a pale green.
When he’d finished making our drinks we went out onto the front porch and worked until the last streaks of sunshine had vanished into that deep Michigan blue, the stars pricking through it like poked holes, one at a time
The sun was low on the horizon, the thin blankets of clouds streaked a pale tangerine. They looked like melted Dreamsicles floating in a sea of denim blue. Gus lifted his face and looked me in the eye again, the light leaping in great licks through the gaps in the moving clouds to paint him with color.
The romance scenes are nice and I loved the description of a cinnamon kiss:
He tasted like vanilla and cinnamon left over from the Ice Cream Surprise, only better than the dessert itself had. His heat rushed into my mouth, into me, until it was flooding through me, racing like a river current baked hot by the sun. Want dripped through me, pooling in all the nooks that formed between our bodies.
now I knew how he felt on top of me. Now I knew what the scrape of his jaw against my skin did to me, how his tongue would test the gaps between our mouths, taste the soft skin at the top of my chest. I was jealous he’d had more of me than I’d had of him. I wanted to kiss his stomach, sink my teeth into his hips, dig my fingers into his back and drag them down the length of him.
His eyes were as dark as oil, slick and hot as they poured down me. His hands skated down my sides, out along my calves, and back up my thighs to cup my butt, grip tightening.
When you love someone,” he said haltingly, “… you want to make this world look different for them. To give all the ugly stuff meaning, and amplify the good. That’s what you do. For your readers. For me. You make beautiful things, because you love the world, and maybe the world doesn’t always look how it does in your books, but … I think putting them out there, that changes the world a little bit. And the world can’t afford to lose that.”
And I loved the descriptions of marriage between January’s parents and after all was done and dusted, why he cheated.:
Your mother has been a lot of people in the twenty years I’ve known her, and I’ve had a chance to fall in love with every single one of them, Janie. That’s the key to marriage. You have to keep falling in love with every new version of each other, and it’s the best feeling in the whole world.
The Bad bits:
- Romance is meh
- His mouth got me over-caffeinated
- The sex is meh
- Personality-wise, it’s like the optimist meets a pessimist so as a couple they would tamper each other down and probably not last the year. His realism, while in check, would dampen her fantasy life and probably end up hating whatever quirky traits she has now.
- His childhood was terrible and there is trauma there but no way to process it. Where is the therapist!
- Also, dating while separated but not yet divorced.