This year, I set myself a challenge to read 12 books in a year. Then, after 6 months, I realised that I’d reached my target of reading 12 books, and upped my game to 24 books in a year. This is the 15th book I read. My other mini reviews are also on this blog.
I’ve done 15 of these blogs about books now, and I’m coming to the realisation that I’m a bit of an idiot when it comes to buying and selecting books. I choose books based on the front cover, because I like the title, based on recommendations from people I don’t know and without reading anything about them. I’ve even read memoirs about people I’ve never heard of. This time, I read a book thinking the author was someone completely different. In this case, Patrick Gayle.
I’ve got nothing against Nicholas Sparks, he’s written some good girly books including the Notebook, which even the most hardened of people would struggle not to shed a tear at. I just got him mixed up with Patrick Gayle. In any case, the book follows the life of a girl who has just moved towns with a new identity. The last 25% ends up pretty nailbiting (despite car sickness, I managed to read the second half of the book travelling down the M6, in the passenger seat, obvs) and I literally couldn’t put the book down. So, despite the case of the author’s mistaken identity, a good book, bit tense, a bit daft, but one that didn’t make me cry.
Thumbs up.
