Monthly Archives: August 2010

The Bride’s Farewell by Meg Rosoff

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The Bride’s Farewell by Meg Rosoff

Rosoff, Meg. The Bride’s Farewell. Penguin, 2010 (reprint). ISBN 978-0452296213 224 pp. $

*****

What if your parents wanted you to marry that nice boy next door? What if you were about the same age, both loved horses, and you’d known each other forever? What if you didn’t love him–and you were better at his job, than he was? Nineteen-year-old Pell opts to become a runaway bride rather than marry a man she doesn’t love, stealing away in the middle of the night with her favorite horse and her mute brother, Bean. They set out for a large, annual fair, where Pell anticipates finding some work, but her dreams are dashed when a con artist makes off with her promised money, and Bean disappears. Pell’s adventures as she seeks her sibling, a home, and a job return lot more than she bargained for in this fairytale-esque read.

Insatiable by Meg Cabot

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Insatiable by Meg Cabot

Cabot, Meg. Insatiable. William Morrow, 2010. 464pp. ISBN 978-0061735066 $22.99

**

I finished Insatiable this past week, and my husband commented, when I picked it up another night, “Are you STILL reading that same book?” It was kind of a crazy week, and I was pretty tired at night, so I’m not sure how that contributed to my difficulty getting through what has been pegged by other reviewers as an easy read.

I liked the irony of the premise: psychic New Yorker and soap opera writer who is a fed up her job and with the popularity of the vampire genre gets fed on by a vamp who she’s unknowingly fallen for. I really enjoyed the treatment of Meena’s psychic ability, that if she shares a vision, she can divert fate, that what she sees is a possible and changeable outcome.

I did think there was a lot of cleverness to Insatiable. I loved Senor Sticky, a great allusion to Kendra’s (and later, Buffy’s) Mr. Pointy. I don’t watch 24, an appreciated that the relevance of Jack Bauer’s name was explained, and I loved the allusions to Dracula. The narrative was pretty straightforward (with several predictable elements).

But overall, I found the writing … amateur. At times, I felt more like I was reading a screenplay, because of the pacing, description and dialogue. Although the dialogue was frequently and delightfully snappy or snarky, the construction of sentences, variety of vocabulary, and plot predictability didn’t have the pizazz of a multiple title novelist.

I wouldn’t call the characterizations stereotypical, but I didn’t findlot much depth or change–perhaps, Meena’s decision at the end is a change, but given her dissatisfaction at the beginning of the novel, it’s not a surprise. I liked the neighbors next door (they surprised and delighted me) and I especially loved Alaric’s first encounter with Mary Lou and her couture.

I randomly opened the book to page 104, and here’s the rundown of dialogue attributions:
Meena said
Jon said
she said
Jon said
Meena admitted
Jon said
Meena said
Jon said
Meena admitted

Now, I know most writing guides will tell you to simply use “said” & “asked,” but use should still be limited, because you can use other tricks, like action, to indicate who is speaking. The overuse of attributions really stood out jarringly for me, instead of fading into the background to let the dialogue shine.

Flipping ahead and skimming through a couple of pages, I am struck by how frequently Cabot uses words in italics. There are two clear purposes: one, to indicate thoughts, like Meena’s musing to herself, or the psychic words/images she receives as portent of death to come.

Cabot also (over)uses italics for emphasis, and this is a no-no, to me. A strong, evocative writer shouldn’t have to TELL the audience where to put the emphasis in the sentence. The sentence structure or choice of words should allow that to occur organically. Cabot tell us to put emphasis on “what” (p 105), counted (p. 106), not (pg 108), knew (pg 109), how (pg 109), what (pg 109), was (pg 109), do (pg 113) ;and then, when a thought in italics has a word to be emphasized, it’s back in a regular font style (him, pg 109).

For me, these are serious writing flaws, and while I have no doubt of potential appeal or audience for this novel, the quality isn’t there enough for me to appreciate it as chick-lit.

The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History by Jason Vuic

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The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History by Jason Vuic

Vuic, Jason. The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History. Hill and Wang, 2010. ISBN 978-0809098910 272 pp. $

***

What’s the difference between a Yugo and a golf ball?

You can drive a golf ball more than 200 yards.

In addition to being a biography of the little car that couldn’t, The Yugo is also a book in how not to run a business, and a buyer beware message for consumers. The excellent introduction hooks the reader in by talking about ways the Yugo is an icon for it’s badness, and comparing it to several other “worst” cars. I didn’t feel the other chapters I read had the same sensational storytelling – maybe there were too many names, facts and figures?

I struggled, three times to get to the 50 page mark, and I’m not sure what the block for me is. It got rave reviews on Amazon and high praise on the back cover blurbs. I love nonfiction. I hate to think I’m not a car girl – I’m married to a mechanic and car parts store manager who can tell make and model by a glimpse of the headlights on almost any vehicle.

Maybe then, it’s the business elements, or the historical elements. Vuic profiles several people responsible for getting the Yugo to American soil, beginning with immigrant Miroslav Kefurt in 1984, at the end of the cold War era. The narrative has a lot of background to put the Yugo and Kefurt’s business decision into context, including world history, world politics, the Olympics, import regulations, car production in Japan, and other “cheap” car successes and failures. ALL of that is crammed into chapter one.

Next, we are introduced to investor/entrepeneur Malcolm Bricklin, and his string of business ventures. Two and a half chapters later, he’s wined and dined Kefurt, buying the California distribution rights for Yugo for $50,000.

That’s as far as I can get. This title is boring me to tears! I appreciate Vuic’s research. The notes are impressive, he interviewed primary sources and got great quotes, and the index is excellent. He’s a decent writer and uses journalistic techniques to bring a human interest tone to the narrative, and fleshes out these businessmen who made terrible decisions. The cover is clever, and the format, with each chapter headed by a new joke about the Yugo, makes it fun. That said, the content, in spite of several attempts, isn’t engaging me or holding my attention.