The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry

Why, Goodreads, why can't I give a book zero stars?! Because this garbage book certainly deserves zero stars.

Sometimes, the library opens my eyes to enjoyable books with the book club selections (not specific group, just a title which is segregated into an area where many copies are available for patron's consumption). “Fikry,” which sounds a bit like a swear and which I may begin using as such given the increase in my bile due to reading this waste of paper, however, is not one of those books. Have you guessed that I didn't find the novel “a page-turning delight,” “marvelously optimistic,” or “a reader's paradise of the first order?” The only delight in turning pages was to finish this heap of trash.

Let me explain why before continuing with further metaphors. The characterization is nowhere; there are just cardboard cutouts propped up everywhere.

And the plot. My Lord, what a mess. The “charming” device of using a memoir about a widower to eventually connect the curmudgeonly middle-aged bookstore owner and publisher's rep was soooo ham-fisted. And what's the name of the publishing house of this magical tome? KNIGHTLEY. Good gravy, save me from bad Jane Austen allusions. Let's just tack a bunch of stories together about a stolen, prized book, an unfaithful author husband, a surprise baby, adoption, and suicide. Of course, the baby transforms the curmudgeon (who, let's face it, is unsurprisingly falling apart after the sudden death of his beloved wife). And he suddenly becomes beloved by the entire town. OF COURSE. Mind you, I love old movies, but this Fikry thing is like a really bad movie from the '30s or '40s, all saccharin and nonsense. I'm surprised the author didn't throw in a dance number or something.

This book doesn't even have decent writing to tie together the mess of a plot. Goodreads won't let me quote the exact problems with the book BECAUSE I'D HAVE TO TYPE IN THE ENTIRE CONTENTS. I will state that the chapter intros describing short stories to Maya were soooo stupid.

Okay, I'm all worked up. It's time for wine to cleanse my pallet of this terrible taste.