Category: Women’s Fiction

I should start a new section called “unputdownables.” The Lost Husband would definitely fit into that category. Most importantly, though, I think I have found a new author whose books I want to read.

The last time I finished a book in two days was The Bette Davis Club, an unmitigated disaster, in my opinion. The Lost Husband was also quick reading, but for different reasons. No talking down to the reader, no ridiculous, selfish characters (OK, one selfish character, but she has to be selfish to assist the story.) Just an entertaining plot peppered with unpredictability that makes the reader want to return again and again.

Libby has been a young widow for three years. Two of those years have been spent living with her mother, who takes more passive-aggressive pleasure in criticizing Libby and running off to pedicure appointments than supporting her and allowing her to mourn. Libby’s two children, Abby and Theodore (Tank,) are resilient as most children are, but still fragile. Unfortunately, Libby has no other options.

Then one day, out of the blue, Libby receives a letter from Aunt Jean. She’s offering Libby room and board on her goat farm in exchange for help running the place. “Crazy Aunt Jean,” Libby’s mother’s sister of whom she has only vague memories. Most of what Libby knows about Aunt Jean comes from her mother’s venomous opinions with a hearty side dish of hatred. These sisters are the epitome of oil and water. Still…anything is better than living with her narcissistic mother, Libby decides, and one day later she’s off to a goat farm in Atwater, Texas.

The rest of the story centers around Libby’s new life in these unforeseen circumstances, the people she meets (there are some terrific supporting characters in Aunt Jean, O’Connor, and Sunshine,) and the healing process Libby is finally allowed to explore. Everyone has some secret or past challenge they are trying to overcome, allowing for extra character dimension and some interesting subplots, and no one is who they seem when Libby initially meets them. The story is told in first person, so we see everything through Libby’s eyes and feel it all through her emotions, which are relatable and authentic.

The book walks the line of “froth,” but I didn’t care. I enjoyed every minute with it and look forward to reading more from Katherine Center. Not every book has to be earth-shattering and life-changing. Some can just be good old-fashioned escapism. You’ll find that in The Lost Husband. Delightful from start to finish.

9/10 Stars

8/1/18 Here’s a fun tidbit: last night I was poking around on Goodreads and came across a Q&A section on the author’s page. I wrote that I was impressed with her comment to an aspiring writer, and quickly received 2 responses. It’s always a treat when authors interact with readers.:

“Clean escapist romance.” That would be the best description of Debbie Macomber’s genre. Escapist lit is not necessarily a bad thing, but it certainly doesn’t challenge the reader. It’s familiar, comfortable, and predictable.

I experienced A Girl’s Guide to Moving On as an audio-book checked out from our local online library. Over a period of two weeks I would listen to it through headphones while walking around the neighborhood on clear afternoons, plugged into my car’s audio system while running errands, or while making dinner and folding laundry. It is perfect for such mundane activities.

The two audio-book narrators take on the roles of middle-aged Leanne and her 30-something daughter-in-law, Nichole. The plot follows their stories back and forth with an easy-going fluidity. Both are on the brink of divorce from their two-timing husbands (keep in mind that Nichole’s ex is Leanne’s son,) both are adjusting to a newly simplified lifestyle, both are looking to redefine themselves as someone other than “so-and-so’s” wife.

Of course as a light romance, that last point is doomed to failure. Personally, I take issue with “moving on” being characterized as finding a new romance so quickly after a divorce, but, as with most escapist literature, we have to be forgiving and suspend reality a bit.

Enter Rocco for Nichole and Nikolai for Leanne. Both story-lines have their “will they or won’t they” hiccups, bumps, and obstacles. Both men are supposed to be the antithesis of the ex-husbands. While Rocco is a “rough around the edges” gentleman, I found Nikolai to be demanding, jealous, and something of a bully. Perhaps others would disagree, but I was not rooting for that particular relationship.

As the story progressed I found myself staying with the characters more out of curiosity than actual emotional investment. By the end, there were no real surprises, no real lessons learned by anyone, just the satisfaction of having everything end exactly as I had predicted. If anything, it was a “placeholder” type of book–one you read until you find something better, which wouldn’t be difficult.

7/10 Stars

In Kristin Hannah’s novel, Comfort and Joy, high school librarian Joy Candelaro is a realist, but still a dreamer. Her beloved job is real. So is the fact that her ex-husband, Thom, and her sister, Stacey, are now a couple.

It is one thing to choose to change your life, but it is something else entirely to have change thrust upon you without your approval. This particular change has hit Joy like a ton of bricks. Being the result of betrayal by the two people she trusted most in the world has made it even more difficult. How does someone recover from something like this? How does someone regain a semblance of control when everything she knew has been tossed to the wind? All she has left to hold on to is her job, and it isn’t enough.

Joy’s answer is to give herself a spontaneous gift. A change of scenery should do it; the chance to leave dusty Bakersfield and board a plane to the lush Pacific Northwest.

Little does she know that this decision will take her on a journey of discovery. A journey of the heart and mind.

To tell more would spoil the plot.

This is a novel that requires some compromises from the reader. The reader must suspend reality a bit, which I was willing to do. The reader must also accept the fact that not all questions (there are many) will be answered by the book’s conclusion. That was harder for me. And, although I’m glad I stayed with it until the end, there were times I almost put it down permanently. The book is flawed, but still sweet and worth your time. Resist the urge to tell yourself “that would never happen.”  Just give yourself over to the events and let the plot envelop you.

This is most definitely in the category of “Women’s Fiction.” The book taps into many of our emotions: empathy, despair, hope, and love. It is escapist and it is enjoyable.

8/10 Stars

I should’ve gone to the ladies’ room before the service began. But my four cups of coffee and the 32 ounce Coke I’d drunk on the way to church hadn’t made it to my bladder until the preacher cleared his throat and began a eulogy that sounded as if it would go on six days past eternity…

And so begins the saga of Trudy Williams, our protagonist of The Ladies’ Room, by Carolyn Brown.

When I first read the premise of the story–a woman’s life changed because of some gossip she overhears in the ladies’ room–I thought it sounded cute and unique.

When I actually began the book a few weeks later I was immediately turned off by Trudy’s two cousins, Marty and Betsy, the perpetuators of the gossip at their Aunt Gert’s funeral. The whole thing felt very immature.

The final straw was when all of them, including Trudy, referred to Trudy as a frumpy, middle-aged woman and I realized that Trudy is 5 years younger than me. Ahem!

But I stuck it out, grasping to my first instinct that this would be a book worth reading. It was.

Whatever her age, I picture Trudy as a sister of Kathy Bates’ character in the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, a put‐upon housewife whose husband of twenty-plus years sees her more as a cook and laundress than a romantic partner.

Between the gossip she overhears and the result of Aunt Gert’s will, Trudy now has the motivation and means to start fresh. Her one friend is Billy Lee Tucker, a childhood acquaintance and the town misfit, who also happened to be Gert’s next door neighbor.

There is nothing deep, profound, or even unique about The Ladies’ Room, but it will still speak to many women who have found themselves in Trudy’s situation, or, at least part of it. Some aspects of it reminded me of Melody Carlson’s Dear Daphne series, with Trudy being a slightly older, married, version of Daphne.

This is not a book you read for great personal enlightenment. It is purely “escapist literature” at its. The Ladies’ Room is endearing, clean, light, and thoroughly enjoyable.

8.5/10 Stars