Rating: 3 out of 5
As the summer comes to a close, I like to soak up the sun with some good chick-lit: something cheerful, funny, and easy to read while laying by the pool.
This 2012 novel stars private chef Gemma Craig (no relation to Jenny Craig), who is struggling to make ends meet in Washington, D.C., while cooking for a different client each weekday. She works for an eclectic group of people, including a Russian psychic, a morbidly obese online poker player, and the uppity Van Houghtens who are ‘allergic’ to everything.
Then there’s the elusive Mr. Tuesday, nicknamed that by Gemma who has never actually seen the workaholic lawyer, but finds herself inexplicably attracted to him. What will happen when their paths finally cross–in the most surprising of ways?
I’ll admit that while I enjoyed this book, I could have been content if it remained a story about love and cooking. Unfortunately, Harbison throws in a few plot details that cost her a couple stars in my opinion.
One thing that I really don’t like is a bait-and-switch. When Gemma reveals that she became pregnant as a teenager and gave the baby up for adoption, I was immediately turned off. This is something that I believe should have been included in the book summary, especially since it’s mentioned so early in the story.
My blog followers should be well aware by now that I’m not a fan of kids. I’m childfree in life, and I prefer my reading to be as well. I love reading about love, but there’s nothing that makes me roll my eyes harder than when a romance novel ends with marriage and a baby carriage. It’s cliche as hell, and it promotes the stereotype that all women are dying to get hitched and knocked up.
Now don’t get me wrong–I’m not insulting the women who do value these things. There are more than enough books out there to support this domestic vision. But I’m also not going to hide the fact that I actively avoid chick-lit or romance novels with main characters dealing with issues related to having or raising children. Personal preferences are exactly that–personal.
My point is that I would have appreciated a heads up that I was getting into a book filled with guilt and angst over giving a child up for adoption (not to mention, another kid-related plot twist further into the novel).
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with adoption–or abortion or raising a child as a single mom, for that matter. But if you’re going to write about any of them, include them in the book summary, for goodness’ sake! Plenty of people will still read your book, just not me. This failure to divulge soured an otherwise lighthearted tale about bonding over butter, which is all I ever wanted.
For those who are looking for great chick-lit/romance without all the baby mama drama, check out the stand-alone novels of Sophie Kinsella and the U.S. Attorney series by Julie James.