Chelsea Sedoti lives in Las Vegas, but hates casinos. She prefers the Mohave Desert, animals, and writing about flawed teenagers who refuse to grow up. Her novel, The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett, just released.
Hawthorn Creely has one friend, a brother who ignores her, a mother with an embarrassing past, and enough social anxiety to kill a cat. She and the “in” crowd don’t exactly mesh—Hawthorn got burned by one of them years ago, and is still scarred for life. When it-girl Lizzie Lovett disappears, the whole town turns out to search for her, and that’s all anyone talks about. Except Hawthorn. What’s the big deal? Most of the people obsessing about Lizzie don’t even know her.
But soon Hawthorn finds herself wondering what happened to Lizzie, and comes up with a theory so crazy even she can’t believe it. Or can she? To find out the truth, Hawthorn gets a job at the diner Lizzy worked at and befriends Lizzie’s boyfriend, who everybody thinks killed her. But that’s just ridiculous, isn’t it? As Hawthorn’s obsession with Lizzie Lovett grows, she soon realizes nothing is as she once thought it was.
I loved this book. Hawthorn is a somewhat-unreliable narrator, but aren’t we all? She is overflowing with life, but relating to people is not her strong point. She says what she thinks—and that often results in misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and/or disaster. The family dynamics in this book are complex, and give the reader a glimpse into just why Hawthorn feels like such an outsider in her life. Obsessive, curious, and awkward, Hawthorn is all of us personified. I highly recommend this!
(Galley provided by Sourcebooks Fire via NetGalley.)
Eden hasn’t spoken with Tyler in over a year. After he left her, she started a new life at a school in Chicago, and tried to forget about Tyler. Now she’s just angry at him, and she never wants to speak to him again. But back in Santa Monica for the summer, it’s hard to forget Tyler when she’s surrounded by things that remind her of him.
And she’s not the only one who returns to Santa Monica. Tyler has made a new life for himself, and he wants Eden in it. Eden is confused by this new Tyler, and she’s not sure if she can ever forgive him. But when family conflict draws them together, Eden must decide if Tyler is worth everything he’s put her through.
Okay, I’ll admit it: cheesy high school movies are a guilty pleasure of mine. Think Ten Things I Hate About You and Save the Last Dance. I also love reading books like that, and the DIMILY trilogy fits nicely in there. It’s been fun seeing Eden and Tyler change and grow throughout the books, and this is an enjoyable ending to a series I liked.
(Galley provided by Sourcebooks Fire via NetGalley.)
Gwen arrives in Ceylon full of anticipation and fear: newly married after a whirlwind courtship, now she joins her husband, Laurence, on his tea plantation. Ceylon is so much more than Gwen ever imagined: a lush, other-worldly paradise filled with racial conflict and secrets. Lots of secrets.
Like the hidden grave she finds near the house. And the trunk of old baby clothes. Laurence won’t talk about these secrets, and soon Gwen is wrapped up in her pregnancy and a secret of her own. These secrets put up a wall between Gwen and Laurence, one that leads to more secrets, lies and manipulation, and a tragedy of the worst sort.
Some books leave you speechless and emotionally reeling. This was one of those books. Ceylon is so vivid and brimming with life I could almost smell the flowers and the tea. Gwen and Laurence are flawed and frightened, but love each other so much and so deeply as their relationship grows. Their secrets haunt them both through every page of the book. This book is a phenomenal, emotional rollercoaster!
(No, he doesn’t read this blog, he doesn’t even know of its existence. This is just a form of personal therapy, a way to get these thoughts out of my head and find some sort of closure, even if it’s only in my own mind.)
Hey. It’s me. You know, the one you claimed to love. The one you said you “could see yourself spending the rest of your life with.” The one you made plans with to move to California, to get 3 dogs with (yes, I still think “Bear Jew” is a stupid name for a dog). The one you asked “Can you just hang around for the next 50 years or so?” Yep. Me.
I wish I had known upfront that you were not the person you said you were. I wish I had known that all those things you said, all those plans you described, all the promises you made, were lies. When we first started dating, you told me so many things, things from your past, things that you weren’t proud of, and I never judged you for any of that. I never thought less of you. I still loved you unconditionally and accepted you , just as you were.
And I told you things I’d never told anyone else. You knew exactly how badly I’d been hurt in the past, and promised me you wouldn’t do that to me. But you did. Twice. You broke my heart, knowing exactly how badly it would hurt me, you did it anyway. The first time, I accepted your reasoning as logical, even if I still thought it was stupid. It made a sort of sense, and I knew you still loved me, we were still in each others’ lives. The second time…sigh…
The second time it was just plain selfish, childish, cowardice. Because you can’t deal with real life, with civilian life. Because you think only of yourself. Because growing up and having an adult relationship scares you. Because you refuse to get help, even when you know you need it. Because you freak out and have panic attacks when you realize that people you’ve known for years are now grown-ups and don’t want to party and drink all the time. Shocking, I know, how some people realize there are more important things in life than self-gratification. Imagine that…
I still care about you, very much, but I have found peace in my life now. I still think about you sometimes, memories still hit me out of nowhere sometimes and feel like a dagger to the heart, but I have peace. I’m so much stronger than I was before. But I’m harder as well, and you did that to me. Even with my trust issues and what I knew of you, I trusted you, and now it will be harder than ever for me to trust anyone again. I still don’t understand how you can claim to love someone and knowingly hurt them this badly. You’d been hurt like that before, so how could you do that to me?
We had an amazing relationship. We never fought. We didn’t always agree, but we balanced each other out, and we enjoyed being together so much. I never tried to change you. I never stopped you from doing what you wanted, from going out with your friends, from spending time with your family. The only things I ever asked of you were to be honest with me, and to be who you said you were.
Funny how those are the two things you just couldn’t do.
I heard through the grapevine that you thought about texting me, but didn’t, because you weren’t sure how I would respond. I’ve made my peace. I have forgiven you. I haven’t completely let go of all of the negative emotions, all of the hurt, the regret, the pain, but I’m trying. No, I haven’t made any effort to contact you, because you made it clear that you no longer wanted me in your life. I simply gave you what you wanted, and took myself out of your life. I don’t hate you. I still care about you. But I won’t put myself into someone’s life who doesn’t want me there. If you want to contact me, that’s fine, but I’m not going to initiate it.
I wish only the best for you. I hope that one day you realize who you are, that who you claim to be isn’t actually who you are. I hope your son stays who he is, and doesn’t learn certain things from you, that he doesn’t turn into the bitter, cynical person you are. Most of all, I hope that you find God, and that you realize that He is what you need to fill that hole inside of you, not drinking and partying and meaningless encounters.
I do still love you, but I need someone who is who they claim to be. A real, honest, trustworthy man, someone who is worthy of my love. Someone who won’t hurt me. Someone who doesn’t think only of himself. Someone like the person you claimed to be.
When I told you I was letting go, what I really meant was “good-bye.”
Tomorrow Is Another Day 