Uh... Okay, how do I put this? No idea.
How do I reenact this? Well, first we get an emoticon: o_O. Steam blowing from the side to indicate mental exertion? Optional. Whatever you call that sound you make when you’re blowing spit bubbles, playing in the background? MANDATORY.
(Shakespeare would’ve been proud.)
In the interest of brevity—I don’t want to spend more time thinking about this one than I have to—I’ll summarize the plot in a couple of sentences:
Cousins Miles Pudgy and Laura Perfect were raised like sisters, but a falling out a couple of years prior prevented Miles from realizing the emotional pain Laura was in. When Laura commits suicide, Miles must deal with it.You know, it doesn’t even sound that good when you put it like that which is why I suppose they opted for the hook of the loopy jacket description instead. But whatever, here’s the reality of the matter:
There’s no plot.
Every character except for Miles, the first-person focus of the novel, is underdeveloped.
Miles herself becomes a bore after awhile.
And I still don’t get it.
This would be the place to say I was in resounding love with Rachel’s writing back when I first began reading YA and I picked up Pop Princess and Gingerbread. Given my distaste for her recent releases—Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist and now this—I wonder where the object of my affections has gone. Have my preferences changed that much?
The first chapter is engaging enough. I love the “once upon a time”, fairy tale approach to retelling the past, which was employed here. Miles made everything seem so angelic, so perfect, you could hear the childlike giggles (of innocence) reverberating in the background. Then her tale is shattered by her cousin’s death, and you can feel the shards of her broken childhood.
Moving past the first chapter, everything becomes shoddy. The focus was never really on Laura or her suicide but rather on Miles’s self-loathing, drug habits, and unrequited love. And even so, those aren’t resolved either. Not that these things are easily fixed—especially not in the space of 200 pages—but they weren’t developed or evolved, either. Miles screws up with her drug habits as a result of her self-loathing and pushes her unrequited love away...
I’m not convinced anything changes after the last page. To me, Miles is still—as her father calls her—a burnout, except a more devastated one.
Don’t even get me started on my disgust with flat characterization. On a character-driven novel. Miles had personality and voice, but everyone else was drawn like a stick (ironically what Miles wants to be, heh).
On a last note, I’m gonna say that it takes an act of God himself to make me want to clean my room. This novel, somehow, ended up propelled me to do that.
I take this to mean I was uninterested? Bored? You tell me.
So, D. Thank god the writing style at least was redemptive.
ETA: In the comments section, Abby added: I loooved Gingerbread and its sequels, but I just really didn't get the point of You Know Where to Find Me. I really wanted to like it, but I just felt like it kind of went nowhere.