Named a “Best Book of 2016" by Refinery29 and a “Spring & Summer Book Pick” by * Redbook Magazine * Refinery29 * Coastal Living * Brit + Co * SheKnows * The Reading Room * FabFitFun * YourTango * LEVO * Chick Lit Central * Rue La La * The Berry
Mia Gladwell’s life is going nowhere. The media has skewered her debut novel, her fiancé Carson, a successful Hollywood producer, has jumped ship, and now she’s living in her sister’s carriage house—unattached, unemployed, and uninspired. Then she learns that the Los Angeles estate of iconic author Ray Bradbury is up for sale, and she feels an immediate urge to buy the wonky old house, convinced that moving into the late author’s home will inspire her to create her best work yet.
Life in the Bradbury house is not what Mia imagined, however. Soon after moving in, to fulfill a debt she owes to Carson, she agrees to take in a pill-popping young actress as a tenant, and suddenly she finds herself in a balancing act between her needy ex, an unpredictable starlet, and her disapproving sister, who’s keeping a close eye on her. Add to this a series of mysterious sketches left at her doorstep by a stranger, and Mia’s life is more complicated than ever. As she searches for clues, though, Mia discovers insights into her own life. Maybe moving into Bradbury’s house was a big mistake—but maybe not.
I cannot stand this book, and 74 pages is all I am willing to give it. I was so excited to read this and actually requested that my public library order it in, just because the premise sounded so fun. BUT, the writing style is clunky, there’s a lot of telling as opposed to showing, and the main character, Mia, is completely idiotic. I would not wish this reading experience on anyone. The few snippets I saved to try and illustrate my frustration:
“On her left was the head of auburn hair, attached to a petite frame wearing a checkered black shirt and black jeans with matching combat boots. Mia couldn’t make out her face, as it was bowed down, almost hiding from the sunlight. Pulling up the rear was a hulking bouncer type in a bad leather jacket and an equally unfortunate expression. Mia guessed this was the bodyguard. As the doorbell chimed, she moved at what felt like the speed of molasses to answer.”
Head of auburn hair? Bad leather jacket? Equally unfortunate expression? This description is so heavy-handed, and is just one of many unfortunate passages in this book.
“The next morning Mia awakened to the unceremonious clanging of pots and pans. She dashed out her door with a quickening pulse, afraid of discovering an intruder.”
She heard pots and pans banging and immediately assumed intruder? What kind of intruder would cook in your kitchen, other than the kind you shouldn’t be scared of as Mia was (e.g. sister)?
I give up on this. It’s not often I don’t finish a book, but I can’t take any more nonsense.
