In a Thousand Different Ways

2.5 stars

Oh, how excited I was to read the latest book by Cecelia Ahren! “A mainstream book about people like me! Wow.” I marvelled.

Unfortunately, there was a great deal in the novel that rubbed me the wrong way. Granted, characters can be whoever they want to be, but their was such strong threads of martyrdom and victimhood in Alice, along with the paradox of the vilification and glorification of motherhood (with enmeshment in both accounts)—a real ‘family is everything' message. It started making me feel sick. I wish I would have waited on my hold at the library instead of buying a copy. I won't be putting “In a Thousand Different Ways” on my bookshelf.

Around the halfway mark, Alice, quite simply, started to get under my skin. She seemed entitled and controlling. One example that really stood out for me (besides the dynamics with the family she was born into and the family she created with her husband) was with her neighbour and the wind chimes. Rather than having empathy for the neighbour who was driven batty by the wind chimes (she never considered that this might be one of the contributing factors to his irritated mood), she seemed to mock him and wanted to keep/add more wind chimes in what seemed like a spiteful way. It didn't make sense to me that someone with sensory/psychic sensitivities would not recognize and attempt to honour another human's needs. It was fascinating.

This book had such potential. Sure, there were moments of insights, but overall it was a disappointment. The entire last chapter was especially rushed and saccharine—very Nicholas Sparks-ish or, I guess, Cecelia Ahren-y. Maybe I've just outgrown these styles of stories.

PS I appreciate that Cecelia states in the Acknowledgements section why she called the book “In a Thousand Differnet Ways”; however, it could have been an impactful moment if Alice weaved the Oscar Wilde quote into the story.