. . . a nameless review
One of the traits I envy fiction writers is their ability to tell the unfettered truth about their characters’ thoughts, the emotional interaction between characters, and their view of life. Me, I’m usually polite. I don’t often write reviews of books I dislike but this one just rang all my bells.
It’s crime fiction about five women who are in their seventies, in lazy pursuit of their individual bucket lists. Doesn’t that sound charming?
On the first page the author is unaware of the difference between less and fewer, followed shortly by incorrect pluralization of "none of us". Well, irritating but this I can live with.
The real kicker: that five women in their seventies would be unable to undress in the dark and then scream at seeing each other nude. Has the author never been to a public pool? Five women who are long past their first youth, long past a juvenile’s ideas about the world. Many of whom have given birth, several of whom have buried husbands, and they would scream like two year olds at seeing nudity?
I threw the book at the wall. You think I have any interest in staying inside the head of such stupid women?
A sad part is that the cover is gorgeous. Five voluptuous women, nicely rounded, tucked into comfy dressing gowns, with plenty of wrinkles and grey or tinted hair. They are smiling, curious, undaunted and unafraid. In this picture, these are women I could know--they could be my friends.
What a waste!
If you want to know the title of the book, write to me privately and I’ll tell you.