A Bad Review - Soulmates by Holly Bourne

The official blurb:

‘Soulmates do exist. But not as you think. Every so often to people are born who are the perfect match for one another. Soulmates.

But what if meeting your soulmate is earth-shattering – literally?

An epic electrifying and extraordinary debut about falling in love’

My Thoughts:

  

       Sigh. I hate to say it, but this book, in my opinion, was really not very good at all. I expected so much. I think that might be the biggest issue I had with this book. Having had my mind blown by Bourne’s second novel ‘The Manifesto on How To Be Interesting’ I thought that Bourne’s burst into the literary world, her grand entrance, would be even better – but sadly I was proved wrong.

         ‘Soulmates’ is a book that, though the blurb does not give much away, has a spectacular plot concept! The story is based around the idea that Soulmates do exist, but when a pair meets, the chemical reaction between them is so strong that it their hormones can cause storms, earthquakes and huge life-threatening natural disasters. There is a secret government facility that works to frantically try to prevent these soulmate disasters from happening. This plotline, combined with my history with Bourne is what sold the book to me.

The story is told through a first person perspective from one half of two Soulmates, 17 year old Poppy Lawson, as well as an interesting occasional third person extracts of the actions of those running the government facility.

     

    This is where the goodness ends.

         For starters, this fantastic, awesome, mindblowing idea of a plotline fell absolutely flat on its face. It’s a firework that never goes off. We spend a long 450 pages listening to Poppy Lawson whine on and on about how ‘Oooh Nooo… I’m in love! But I can’t be in loooove, I can’t actually like a boy! I am such a feminist!’ Poppy is one of these irritatingly strong-minded characters who seems to think that if she shows so much as a wink of affection for a member of the opposite sex then she has tainted the rights of women everywhere and is no longer a true feminist. Poppy had lots of likable qualities, her bitter confidence and sarcasm were amusing and interesting at times, but I feel, at least for me, this was broadly overshadowed by her sheer close-mindedness.

  

       Within those 480 pages we also explore Poppy’s blossoming relationship with her soulmate, local bad-boy, Noah. Noah’s in a band, a very tortured soul - Their eyes meet across a crowded room, one of his gigs actually, and of course, the attraction is instant.

  

       As a hopeless romantic myself, I enjoyed Noah and Poppy’s grand gestures and first steps immensely… at first. However, they’d been going out for one week, 200 pages, when the ‘I-love-you-I-need-you-please-never-leave-me’s started spouting and it all just got a bit… sickening. We get it. You like each other, you really don’t have to describe, in detail, every single time he blinks, coughs or looks at you. I mean, I’m not love-expert, but when they started speaking about how their children would look everything seemed a little unbelievable. There were no subplots, just the batting of eyelashes and a weirdly excessive amount of lust.

    

     I pressed on, wondering if the last 50 pages could save the book for me but… no. I feel like Bourne wrote the majority of the book in a rose-scented haze and only snapped out if it to write the ending when her publisher started phoning up, gabbing about deadlines and delivery dates. It is only in the ending of the book that the idea of the government facility actually comes properly in to play but with the rest of the novel styled as a contemporary romance, this seemed more than a little out of place. It was rushed, random and sadly, I didn’t like it.

  

       However, that’s not to say this book was entirely unlikable, in fact, I have read many reviews of people who thought the romance was, sweet, and well-thought-out with the twist at the end exciting the reader a suitable amount and tying a nice red ribbon around the story as a whole – but that’s  not how it was for me.

  

       For me ‘Soulmates’ was a two star book which should have been a five and without any substantial subplot or character depth other than the two soulmate’s deep unending love for each other it just didn’t cut it for me.

        

Three Word Rating: eh, okay, mediocre

The Bad Review

        You may have noticed (at least I hope you have) that I try and make my blog, Prescription Fiction a very light hearted, non-confrontational, comfortable place for all you lovely chaps to explore. I try my best to use non-offensive language, a fairly positive tone and just to be double sure that I come across as friendly to you lot I grin constantly while writing these blogs (actually, I might stop that, my face is starting to hurt). Now, all this fluffy, goodness-and-light pleasantry business may seem just fine and dandy to you, however being nice in the book blogging industry (If I call it an industry I sound way more professional) has one fatal flaw – I cannot write a bad review.

         I have tried. I have sat down, boring book in hand, scowl firmly set upon my face, ready to write some hard-hitting, brutally- honest blog posts. But it’s as if as soon as my fingers hit the keyboard all that anger just slips away and my head is crammed full of butterflies, rainbows and such a beautiful happiness that I simply cannot type a single tainted word. It sucks.

  

       So far, on this blog, I have not uttered a single sour word towards any book at all. I have pointed out flaws, yes, but more by way of creative criticism, two stars and a wish if you don’t mind reverting to primary school terms. I have avoided the bad review at all costs. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I am a reading saint, immune to all negative bookish thoughts, enjoying every book presented to me, and it isn’t as I have been lying to you, swearing to you that the worst books are the best, tricking you into a day or two of bash-your-brain out monotony. No, I have simply avoided the bad review entirely. Making a conscious decision not to write about the books I don’t like. And why I hear you ask curiously through your computer screens, well, let me tell you.

        Guilt. Guilt is what stops me from tearing a book to shreds for all to see. I get that funny little knot in my tummy just thinking mean thoughts about my book. I would like to be honest with you, telling you about why I hated that love triangle or why the author’s sentence structure made me what to rip off my own eyebrows, but every time I hover my hands by the computer, ready to tell you what any professional book critic would, I imagine being the author of that book and finding a review like that.

  

       Every book you read has an author. Someone who sat for months, sometimes years behind a keyboard, dreaming up a world and spilling every ounce of literary brilliance they possess into the pages of a book. I have such a major attachment to some books, I will happily fight their corner in any way I can – if that’s me, I can’t even begin to imagine how strong a bond an author must have with their own book. How must they feel when they read a harsh review? We’re practically attacking their children!  I cannot bear to be responsible for that.

 

How could I ever be mean to Moran :'c

        That’s, not to say, however, that I have a problem with others who are bold enough to publish bad reviews, quite the opposite actually. I read bad reviews regularly, they’re juicy and interesting, and if it’s a book I did happen to like, I like to hear the different perspective. I respect the skill in being able to politely tell your audience that you disliked a book.

 However, there are times when that can go too far. I hate to see bloggers violently destroying a book without reason, writing only for the purposes of an interesting post, as opposed to informing others or expressing an opinion. I cringe when I see bloggers bite and snap over some poor guy’s debut novel on the basis that they ‘just didn’t like the book’. That is not a reason that is an opinion. If you really must be so harsh and aggressive about a book, I want you to give at least one good valid reason as to why, otherwise, you’re simply being mean. Not cool.

I could turn John Green into this...

I’m scared that if I write a bad review, this will be the case. All of this. I will write out all my negativity, hit publish and you guys will all read it and think I’m being terribly rude and mean and nasty! You will press un-follow and spread the world of my disgusting, evil character. I will never blog again. What’s more, the author of that book will somehow stumble upon my post. They will read my words with a look of misery on their face, one sad tear rolling down their cheek as they realise that they have failed as an author. They decide never to write again. With one post I will have kicked myself out of the blogging world, ruined someone’s life and looked like a prat all at the same time. Horrific, right? In my mind, this is the only outcome of writing a bad review and it terrifies me.

However, I do want to be the best blogger I could possibly be. I want to be able to talk about some of the books I didn’t like, start discussions, find out if you guys feel the same. So I write to you all today, looking for advice. I want to know! Do you guys want bad reviews? Do they make you cringe? Laugh? Do you like them? Do you read them? Tell me down in the comments, please! Because, honestly, I’m horrifically bad at the bad review.

Dash and Lily's Book of Dares

In the run up to Christmas I love to get into the Christmas spirit and read a few Christmassy books and so back in September, during a particularly wild Amazon book spree, I purchased ‘Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares’ by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan in preparation for the festive Winter months. When the book arrived with a lovely thump on my doorstep I was very sensible and placed it safely in a hidden corner of my bedroom to sit and wait until the reindeers roamed the streets, tinsel was strung over every available surface and it was okay to be excited for Christmas. I definitely was not going to read this book until Christmas. I wasn’t. I wasn’t! ... I did.

            I am currently writing this blog in October… Okay! Okay! So, kill me! I saw a wreath of holly in a passing shop window and I got a teensy bit excited. Well… when I say a ‘teensy bit’ I mean I freaked out in the middle of the street, pre-ordered a new reindeer pattern Christmas jumper, pulled my ‘Snowman’ snow globe down from the spiders in the attic and shook it manically as I began to read ‘Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares’.

            But, all that is beside the point. The point is that ‘Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares’ is one of the most wonderful Christmas books that I have ever read! The book follows the story of New York teenagers, Dash and Lily (the co-writers writing the two perspectives chapter for chapter) as they get to know each other over Christmas using only the fantastic dares and challenges they leave each other in a little red Moleskine notebook.

 Now, bear in mind, just in case you like to take my word as law (As I know you all definitely do!) that this is not for all you lactose intolerant readers out there. This book definitely has rich, creamy, full-fat gorgonzola cheese as its main ingredient – and I loved it! Cheese is exactly what a Christmas book should have, heck, the entire season is cheesy, not just its literature. There were so many sweet little scenes and Christmassy settings that I could almost smell the cinnamon in the air. I have never in my life left Europe but I’ll be damned if I don’t what Christmas in New York is like after reading that book.

Dash, I thought, was a very unlikely character to appear in a Christmas book and at first I found him quite irritating. The complete opposite to Lily, he hated Christmas and chose to spend Christmas alone, hiding from parties and festivities and delicious gingerbread men.  Dash seemed to think himself incredibly deep and troubled because of this particular preference and kept spouting pretentious moody rubbish all the way throughout the book.  However, as I became more familiar with the characters and their individual thoughts and feelings I began to realise that this was no accident. Dash was meant to be annoying! Though infuriating, it was crucial to the plotline and I actually began to become quite fond of this particular personality quirk.

I liked Lily straight off the bat! I think her best contribution to the novel as a whole is her close connection with her family. Lily’s relatives feature a lot throughout the novel and though they may only be minor parts I think collectively they make the book more Christmassy than any number of snowflake baubles, giant nutcrackers or North-Pole themed mittens. This may only be a personal opinion, but, to me, family is the most important aspect of Christmas and I know that if Cohn and Levithan had forgotten to sprinkle a few aunts, uncles and lazy older brothers into their writing, then the book would not make my heart swell as much as it did.

Because I am a lazy blogger, now, as I finish this blog, the calendar reads December 15^th. I have read ‘Dash and Lily’ again since my little (massive) Christmas freak out back in October and I can confirm to you that nothing I have said as thus is a lie - induced by an early dose of mistletoe and fake shop-display snow. The book manages to maintain its lovely warmth and sweetness for the re-read and if, still, this late into December, you haven’t yet felt that familiar glow that comes from warm mince pies and santa-shaped mittens, then I guarantee you, this is the book to kick-start your holiday spirit! 

Isla and the Happily Ever After Review

    

       I know, I know. I speak about Stephanie Perkins way too much, but if she didn’t cause me so much heart ache maybe I wouldn’t have to! I can’t just let her tear me apart, rip my heart out and use it as a football and pretend like it isn’t happening! I need to speak through my feelings with you, It’s the only way I’ll ever come close to moving on,  – particularly my most recent feelings concerning her newest book, ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’. In recent weeks I have once again found myself lying on my bed at 2am, that familiar pain in my chest, wishing with all my might that I could pull one of Stephanie Perkin’s boys out of their fictional world and safely into my arms.

     

This time it was Josh. Joshua Wasserstein. Though I had not truly appreciated him when reading ‘Anna and the French Kiss’, my mind too consumed with the sheer swooshiness of Etienne’s hair, I was certainly appreciating him now. While Etienne and Cricket, the romantic interests of Perkins two previous companion novels, were friendly and confident, Josh was quiet, artistic and mysterious. In my mind he was stronger built than the other two boys, less soft edges, with a gorgeous well-shaped smile. It was a lovely change from the other two love interests and I ate up every romantic gesture like I hadn’t had a meal in weeks.

     

       There is an added physicality in ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ not found in the previous books. Usually, Perkins focuses on exactly how the lovely couple came to be, the book ending with that fantastic first kiss moment so highly anticipated by the reader, however, this time we get to have a look at what comes after that. Of course, once a seventeen year-old couple has been together long enough to get that kiss out of the way, things begin to progress to much more… serious stuff. However, being so familiar with Perkins’ usual romance structure, I really did not expect this uh… new kind of kissing contained within the book.

   

         But, of course, Perkins being the literary genius that she is, it was all okay. Better than okay, it was nice. It wasn’t awkward or disgusting. She avoided explicit language and instead of the actual physical act, Perkins spoke of the feelings her characters experienced, something not usually the focal point of this kind of scene. It wasn’t pornographic and strangely, it didn’t seem all that sexual. Josh and Isla did not ‘have sex’, they ‘made love’. It was beautiful.

           However, don’t for a minute think that ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ is about sex. Most definitely not. These moments were simply the finer details of an ultimately gorgeous picture; the glint in Mona Lisa’s eye.

           Of course, this wouldn’t be a Perkins book if we didn’t have an artfully chosen romantic setting. The book has two main settings – new and exciting Manhattan, brimming with people and possibilities, and… Paris! I squealed with joy when I found out we were going back to Paris, setting of ‘Anna and the French Kiss’.  I want every book to be set in Paris, things just seem to be more dazzling over there. Joshua Wasserstein was amazing for many reasons, he was gorgeous, artistic, thoughtful and funny… but now he gets to speak casual French too? I’m practically swooning as I type.

  

          More specific than Paris, in ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ we get to return to Anna’s boarding school from ‘Anna and the French Kiss’. Yet another reason to read the series – the three stories are all tastefully intertwined, with ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ featuring, in my opinion, the best cameos of the entire series. Etienne, Anna, Meredith, Rashmi, Cricket, Lola and Calliope all make an appearance at some point in the book.  The reader is given enough to detail to both excite and satisfy, but crucially, the cameos do not take over the main plotline of the book. I really do wish that I could talk to you about the wonderful scene near the end of the book, but even I would not be so mean as to spoil such a perfect surprise.

  

          There is only one fault I have for ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ and that is this; the remarkable book marks the end of the three-part series. As I put the book down a weird sort of sadness washed over me and I suddenly wished I had never read any of it at all. I wished I could be back on the first page of ‘Anna and the French Kiss’, my low expectations about to be blown out of the water.

           However, at the end of ‘Isla and the Happily Ever After’ I knew one thing for certain. Stephanie Perkins is my favourite author. She writes exactly the kind of books I want to read, satisfyingly romantic and perfect right down to the last detail. I can’t stress enough how much I loved this series and I just know that whatever Perkins chooses to release next, I will buy from Waterstones with a bright grin on my face and an open heart. 

If you would like to find out more about Stephanie Perkins, here is her website!

And here's my Anna and the French Kiss review! 

The Fault In Our Stars - Movie Review

  

          As the lights in the theatre faded to black and the opening scene for ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ began to run, I bit my lip. This was it. Like most people my age, I have had a deep love for the John Green novel ever since I had first read it. The book destroyed me, drowning me in tears as I read the last chapters. It had definitely left a lasting impression. I had been waiting for this movie for a long time. It meant something to me. It meant something to most every other teenager I knew. And that was why it was so important they got this right.

           Movie adaptations on the whole make me quite nervous. There are so many things that they can get wrong. I know I have to make exceptions -it must be difficult to fit every single page into the film - but the more they cut and paste and change, the lower my opinion plummets. I just get so angry paying to see a movie-adaptation of a book I loved so much and finding how unrecognizable it has become.

    

        Even if they do somehow manage to leave the plot line in its original form, I am still ridiculously hard to please. The setting and the characters have to be just so, otherwise the book will be ruined for me for a long time after. Seeing a movie-adaptation always manages to erase the idea of the characters that exists in my head and replace it with whatever brand-name ill-fitted actors that the director has chosen to sell more tickets. One single movie can change my whole perspective on the book, to the point where I can’t even remember what the character’s used to look like to me. When I read Harry Potter, it is Daniel Radcliffe I see, not the scruffy bespectacled kid that I had one been able to conjure up in my mind.

  

          However, with all that to consider, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ was perfect. It was beautifully shot; cleverly cast and did not miss a single scene. It was a wonderfully weird sensation to realise that the version of the book they had created was almost identical to the version of the book I had initially imagined at home. And after a deep discussion with a few other die-hard John Green fans it turned out that it was a close fit to their imaginations as well.

 When it was first announced, I had been apprehensive about the casting of soft-faced blonde, Ansel Elgort, for the part of Gus. But as I slipped easily into the first scenes of the movie, I realised that no other actor could have fit into the role quite as well. Elgort’s Gus was funny and charming and a sweet sort of handsome that he managed to show both on the inside and the out. It may just have been because I did not associate Elgort with any other movie but I really believed in his portrayal of Gus. I think that belief is one of the main reasons why my mascara was dripping off of the bottom of my face by the time the lights came up at the end of the show.

Even without having read the book, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ is an enjoyably romantic film to watch. The story is made perfectly clear for those with no previous experience and the scenes are wonderfully romantic with only a subtle layer of cheese to satisfy the audience. The powerful emotions contained within ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ have been translated almost perfectly from book to movie. Though I cried more when reading the book, the movie still felt like a strong personal experience.

If you haven’t read or seen ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ yet, I do recommend that you read it first. As closely as the film reflects the book, I still think that the book tells a more emotionally compelling story and proves to be a more satisfying experience overall.

That said, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ is easily one of the best movie adaptations that I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. There was much concern surrounding the ridiculous expectations of the fans of the book, but ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ somehow managed to skyrocket way above its impossible hype and into a whole new galaxy of goodness. Despite my apprehension, I loved this movie almost as much as the book.

With gorgeous cinematography and a wonderfully selected cast of characters ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ is a movie-adaptation that will simultaneously wreck you emotionally and warm you to the core. Without a doubt, if you were a fan of the book you’re going to love this.

Okay? Okay.

Rainbow List of Must-Reads: Yellow - It's Kind of a Funny Story

This is the Rainbow List of Must-Reads: Where I review a different one of my favourite books each week! Third on our list we have a yellow book with a yellow cover:

It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini

           ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ is a book I picked up in the teen fiction section last year as an interesting summer read. If I’m quite honest with myself one of the main reasons I lifted it off the shelf was because I absolutely loved the quirky cover-art and there was nothing on the blurb that I found entirely unappealing. When I finally got round to opening the book up a week later as I lounged lazily on my deck chair in my garden, I was met with a pleasantly unpleasant surprise.

  

          ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ is not the kind of book you would usually find amongst the brightly coloured stories of the teen fiction section, to say the least. The book did not give me that bright and happy feeling I would usually get when reading something of such a high standard, but instead would leave me feeling low and foggy when I emerged from between its pages. This is because ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ is about depression.

           Depression books don’t usually find their way to my shelf. In the general I find them overly-dramatic and clichéd with transparent plotlines. However, when reading this book I found I connected with the main character, Craig Gilner, in a big way. When Craig sits in his friend Aaron’s house, smoking pot, his brain hazing with misery I could feel my own mind cloud over. When he stands on the Brooklyn Bridge, crazed by an erratic sort of desperation, I felt painfully desperate as well.

  

          I won’t lie to you. ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ is dark. Really dark. You follow Craig as the pressure from his prestigious school becomes unbearable and he spirals into a deep state of extreme self-loathing. The book is a brutally honest depiction of what depression is really like. Not glorified in the way of a dark romantic interest or cool like the troubled rock star, but a pure, raw, awful emotion. ‘It’s Kind of Funny Story’ is a book that finally shows depression as what it is – depressing.

           And how can we trust that Vizzini’s illustration of depression is not some exaggerated, over-the-top, version created for the sake of good fiction? How do we know that when Craig eventually finds himself in the adult ward of a psychiatric hospital that this isn’t just the psych ward of Vizzini’s imagination? We know because the author has experienced all this himself. ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ is a memoir of Vizzini’s life. He has felt like this; gone through this; been to these places. Through Craig, Vizzini shows us his own experiences with depression. He has shown us how frightening and all-consuming depression really is.

           But he has also shown us that it can get better – and that I believe is the most important thing about ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’. Yes, in the first half of the book we are shown how trapped and lonely depression can make you feel, but in the second half we are shown that you are never truly alone. Only when Craig finally seeks help can he begin to climb back out of the dark pit that is his life. Only upon dealing with his feelings does he realise that every single reason he wanted to kill himself could be quite easily fixed. I believe that ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ exists not only to acknowledge that there are people with these feelings in the world, but also to help these people break away from their lonely situation.

           Ned Vizzini dealt with a lot in his life. On December 19^th 2013, after an on-going struggle with depression, he committed suicide, leaving behind his wife and two-year-old child. When I read about Vizzini’s death it really hit home. Not only because his book was able to move me to tears, but because it made everything written inside ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ all the more true. Because of Vizzini I will never undermine the feelings of anyone battling with depression. I will never see depression as anything other than unbearable, isolating and completely serious. Vizzini has more than earned his spot on this list, I only regret that I couldn’t honour him in a bigger way than this blog post.

            I opened ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ with a light heart and an empty head, and I close it knowing profoundly more about the world around me than I had before.   


You can find out more about Ned Vizzini here!
You can read the other reviews in the Rainbow List of Must-Reads here: Red, Orange