I read a book recently that I didn’t like. I finished it, hoping it would get better. It didn’t.
I will say I loved the premise – a trophy wife whose life takes a sudden turn, and she and her daughter are fending for themselves. Fish out of water. Cool, I thought. What actually happens is the husband runs out of money, basically abandons her, yet she remains madly in love with him.
I would never act the way the main character did. I kept thinking “Grow a pair” at her. What kept me reading was the best friend character who had a “yelling part” to each of their conversations. She served as a voice of reason. I was that friend.
As I finished the book, I realized “it’s not you, it’s me” applied – which is why I’m not mentioning the title. My reaction was based on my perspective, not what was on the page. In the book, the main character acts consistently, and the story is well told and has some really funny parts.
When I stopped and thought about it, I realized my actions in my 20s would not have been so different. That stopped me cold. For a moment I wondered if the book was hitting too close to home. Then I laughed. It took me a long while to remember I used to be that way, like the entire time it took me to read the book.
My issue is that I wanted it to be a different book. Of course I could write the book I wanted it to be, but my version would be horrible. My main character would never have been arm candy to begin with. She wouldn’t have the personality for it, although she might enjoy all the free time to work out. I can see that.
What was the last book that you wanted to like but didn’t? Has anyone else read a book while wishing it was telling a different version of the story?
Grown Up, Now What? 