Review: What Nora Knew

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I had no intentions on reading and writing a review on a Chick Lit novel. This is not necessarily because I dislike the genre in particular, but because most of them tend to be too predictable, stereotypical, idealistic, unrealistically perfect etc so I tend to avoid them – yes, I’m one of those annoyingly fastidious people who demands that a film or novel be realistic to some degree (depending on the genre, of course).  What Nora Knew by Linda Yellin was an exception. I tend to skim over the blurb and take a quick peek at the first page or so of any novel in order to decide whether it’s worth continuing with, and on doing so for this novel, I was immediately and mercilessly hooked.

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What Nora Knew is about Molly Hallberg (a writer for an online newsmagazine) who, having been through a (long) string of unsuccessful relationships – one marriage included – has a somewhat jaded view on love.  Although she is in a steady relationship with her current boyfriend, Russell Edley, she is not a believer in the sort of flowery love that is generally characterized by plenty of passion, elaborate and romantic gestures, and excitement etc – the sort of love that many of the characters in the novel coincidentally have. Instead, she settles for a “comfortable” relationship with him, mainly due to the limiting factor of her age (late thirties), or so she feels. Somewhere along the way, she meets a certain Cameron Duncan (a famous author) who she progressively, unwillingly and inevitably falls for. From this, I’m sure even those of you who are not familiar with/not fans of Chick Lit novels can guess the ending without too much difficulty.

Despite the stereotypical plot, I was quite fond of this novel. For, Yellin’s abilities as an author are more than admirable; the voice of Molly is so internal, witty, sarcastic, sharp, funny, entertaining and likeable. I was constantly chuckling and more than that, she seems very real – indeed it is like she is a real person talking to you instead of for you and that, to me, is one of the marks of a great author. However, that was the best part of this novel. The drama, events and dialogue – albeit quite entertaining in some parts – was mostly just a little bit above average.  At certain times, I actually got a little bored because there wasn’t anything particularly enthralling and some parts were not very believable. But, it was Molly’s amusing and engaging voice that kept me reading right to the end.

One other redeeming factor of the novel that I have to mention is that Yellin readily highlights the fact that most love stories in Chick Lit novels and Rom-Coms are stereotypical and/or predictable, but that people still want to read on or keep watching anyway because they are “mesmerized by the journey”. She does this through the guise of certain characters and with references to some Rom-Coms (the title itself is in reference to Nora Ephron who is most notable for certain films such as When Harry Met Sally and Sleepless in Seattle, for those of you who don’t know). It could just be me, but there is something rather comforting about the author acknowledging that what they’re writing about is stereotypical or clichéd and that they know that people still like to read it anyway to experience the “journey” – it makes them (or their writing, at least) seem more genuine.

Anyway, in short, this book was quite enjoyable but nothing to make you truly go WOW! The ending is very obvious (but then again, it was what Yellin intended), so I suppose some or most will do what she anticipates (as I did) – keep reading until the very end, not because they want to know who Molly ends up with etc, but because they want to experience the journey with her. This is most likely one of those books you might want to take along with you on a holiday (that is, if you like reading Chick Lit novels in the first place and/or if you like reading them when you’re away on  holiday). Even if there wasn’t anything especially riveting, the engaging and laughter-inducing voice of Molly herself would be enough to make most want to read this novel.

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Storyline: 6/10
Style of writing: 9/10
Overall: 7.5/10

– by Rosemary Nguyen

Roz3 by any other name…

Posted in Lifestyle by

It was my main man William Shakespeare who, through the romantic words of Juliet Capulet, said “What’s in a name?” For the lucky ones, their name has some kind of deeper meaning, or a poignant family connection. Blaire, for example, means ‘field of battle’ in old Scottish Gaelic and Nicole is Greek for ‘victory of the people.’ So yeah, I have a pretty cool name, except for when I stop to think about the pressure it puts on me to be some kind of super warrior princess…I wonder what Xena means and if she’d mind giving me a few arse-kicking lessons…

For some unfortunate people-children of celebrities and idiots- their names are as well thought out and deep as the lyrics to Friday.

No.

No.

I respect the desire to avoid naming your kids John and Jane but there’s a line between unusual and downright insane. Just ask Moon Unit Zappa, North West or ‘K’ the little girl who was actually Christened Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii… Yeah. That happened.
Then of course there’s Prince Michael I, Prince Michael II (AKA ‘Blanket’) and Paris Michael Jackson. It astounds me that the genius behind Thriller, Billie Jean and basically every chart topper from 1964-1990 couldn’t come up with anything better than his own name.

I’ve always had a fascination with names but, after sitting in a McCafe and hearing a woman scream at her identical twins named, wait for it, Isabelle and Isabella, I finally cracked it. I instantly messaged a dear friend of mine who is equally as judgemental as me and lost my mind, venting about how some people shouldn’t be allowed to procreate because having a child means they’re going to name it something stupid (harsh, but we know I’m brutally honest). At some point during this rant, a solution to solve World Stupidity and the Employment Crisis came to me; we create a Government body whose sole job is to approve names with a two question interview process.

1. What do you intend to call your child?
If your answer is stupid, like Apple or Pilot Inspektor, you fail and cannot reproduce. If you are successful, you move on to question two.
2. How do you intend to spell the approved name?
If you’re going to pull a Kath & Kim and spell Tiffany ‘Typhphanniii’ you first get a slap, and then a fail.

It sounds harsh, I know, but I’m only trying to protect the next generation from the inevitable mockery that comes with being called Zowie Bowie, and a future of constantly being asked how to spell Jahzzmeine.

Lastly, I don’t give two shits about how many likes you get on Facebook- calling your kid Megatron or Voldemort is as cruel as it is stupid.

Tupac is a great name for a scrawny white guy...

Tupac is a great name for a scrawny white guy…

Just remember: “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me…” unless that word is Kizziera or Loneoxx because there’s a fair amount of emotional hurt going on there.

– by Blaire Gillies

Review: Hopeless

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I’m not trying to sound like a broken record a la the last book review I did, but I finally got around to finishing this wonderful novel that I had been in the middle of for a good month. Now that this novel is finished, I’ve realised that I need to do some serious book shopping!

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Hopeless by Colleen Hoover details the life of 17-year-old Sky, an extremely sheltered young girl whose life is turned upside down when she meets Dean Holder, the resident bad boy with a bad reputation to match her, to be frank, slutty reputation… despite not being a slut.

This novel starts out pretty cruisy, until you get to the middle-ish of the novel where:

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Never in my 21 years of reading novels have I read a book that escalated as quickly as Hopeless. What seemingly starts off as a typical teenage romance novel turned upside down on its head and did a Booker T spinaroonie because the drama that followed was so… dramatic. Without revealing too much, the drama was so good.

The storyline was so predictable that it was unpredictable, if that makes sense. I read it thinking “Oh yeah, and now this is going to happen and this is going to happen” and while some of my predictions were correct, most of them were so wrong that I felt the need to say sorry to Colleen Hoover. Colleen, if you’re reading this, please forgive me for doubting your excellent storyline abilities. The characters personalities were expressed well in the novel through the use of descriptive writing and the image of Dean Holder was clear in my head. COUGH Steve Grand.

The relationship between Sky and Dean was cute, albeit a bit clichè. Two unusually attractive teenagers with troubled pasts fall for each other and are completely in love after a month or two of being completely inseparable. Sky was a hit-or-miss with me; she was either really annoying and “Wah feel sorry for me” one minute and next, she was this funny, sassy spitfire who I found myself to really like. Dean Holder was perfect… almost too perfect. He was so swoon-worthy that I didn’t feel the need to swoon. He had his shining moments just like Sky, though, so I will praise him as a character.

Colleen Hoover’s use of language in this book was almost flawless. The action in the novel was impeccable and the use of imagery and other descriptions painted a clear picture in my head as I read this novel. I can no doubt see why this novel is so acclaimed and why it’s a New York Times bestseller – the author is great and the story is even better. The fact that nearly all the loose ends in this novel were tied together in a nifty little bow by the end of the story demands a round of applause for Hoover who really, in my sweet and humble opinion, knocked this one out of the park.

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Storyline: 9.0/10
Style of writing: 8.6/10
Overall: 8.8/10

I can guarantee you, whether you’re a romance reader or not, that this is definitely a must read. I was so wowed with the entire novel as a whole that I don’t know what to do with my life now that I’ve finished it. I can also guarantee you that you will not want to put this book back down once you’ve gotten into it. It is that damn good.

– by The Black Widow

Bucking the Block

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It’s finally time for me to admit it- Guys, I have Writer’s Block, an illness that is easily as serious and debilitating as the Man Flu or the Clone-Killing Nanovirus. Scratch that. This is way more serious.

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In an effort to cure myself of this crippling ailment, I’ve spent the last month trawling the internet, reading as much as possible; everything from books and newspapers to the ingredients on the back of shampoo bottles in my shower (I don’t know what Methylisothiazolinone or chloromethylisothiazolinone are exactly, but apparently they’re bad for skin, or the ozone layer or something). I also spent a disgusting amount of time reading other people’s blogs, obnoxiously long Facebook statuses and tweets and in doing that discovered something: Writing is a lot like running.

The Tweeters of the world are sprinters: they cover a very short distance in a really quick time. Unlike those of us who tend to ramble on a bit, they have to get their point across in just 140 characters, including beginning, middle and end.

Then  there are the Facebook Fanatics who answer ‘What’s on your mind?’ with not just one, but every single thought they had that day. These are the literary hurdlers – longer distances, more of a challenge and more pressure to make their words interesting without being boring or repetitive.

Then there’s us, the bloggers who devote entire days to writing lengthy, somewhat sassy posts about everything from split-legged jeans to the state of Australian politics. We are the marathon runners. The mentally-fit and fabulous distance writers who take a while to get to the finish line, but make the read worth-while (if I may say so myself).

And these people are the triathletes that make the rest of us look lazy…

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I am hoping now that, having spent January wallowing in self pity, I am fully recovered and back in the writing game. Keep your fingers crossed for me though, guys. The last thing any of us want is a relapse!

– by Blaire Gillies (God it’s good to be writing that again. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of crossing the finish line!)