When a friend of mine said How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff had a better, more believable love story than John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars, I was all in. Hell yes, I thought. In a year with a majority of the books I’m choosing on the meh-side of okayness, I was ready for something to knock my socks off.

Clearly I must have misheard him because this one is a big, dull dud. read more