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This is another book I read at my restaurant. I'd like to think I'm able to distinguish between chick lit that is also relatively good “reg lit,” and the chick lit that's the epitome of the whole genre. This is just plain chick lit. Although I was entertained during several late nights when the bar was slow, and finished recovering from the intensity of “The Kindness of Strangers,” I don't really have much to recommend. Bloom's protagonist does this weird internal dialogue in a different typeface than the rest of the novel, which I HATE aesthetically, and find sloppy in the literary sense as well, and then there's the total prudish approach to sex. At least in romance novels they don't beat around the bush (hah–n.p.i.). Finally, her attempts to make the heroine sympathetic sometimes just fall flat. Like a particularly weird scene involving a Lilith Fair-and-ectasy-induced epiphany. Lilith Fair, whatev. It's chick lit. Ecstasy? Really?? Weirddddddd.