Believe it or not, my first impression of this book was actually really good. From the very first page I was genuinely shocked by how engaging I found the writing style.

I don’t normally find books funny, let alone so funny that I actually have to put them down so I can throw my head back and laugh, but that happened so many times reading this that my face started to hurt.

The content of the plot mixed with the format in which it’s presented—i.e., the sex therapy transcripts—gave reading it the sort of scandalous “guilty pleasure” quality of eavesdropping. So to that end, I thought it was incredibly well-executed.

That is, at least for the first half. The second half is where it lost my attention and failed to truly regain it. I’m not sure if it was an issue with pacing, or tone, or what, but I just felt like the story lost something roughly 60% of the way through.

Not to mention, every time the race or ethnicity of a non-white or non-American person is mentioned, it always seems to be as the punchline to an unspoken joke. Like, “ha ha, the Italian restaurant is run by Indian people, isn’t that funny?”

There’s also the casual use of insensitive language (like “Asperger’s” instead of “Autism”) and even downright offensive language (like gratuitous f- and r-slurs).

Overall, I’d say my main feeling in response to this book is disappointment, because it started so strongly. I had such high hopes.