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A review by _laikahh
Almost Eighteen by Gretchen de la O
1.0
It's a half star. I just didn't get it.
Most of the book happens in a weekend. A WEEKEND! What happens in a weekend that's so important that it takes 400-ish (ebook) pages to be told? Nothing. That's what happens.
She spends most of the time gushing over Max. He's so this, he's so that, his fingers, his hair, the butterflies in her stomach, etc... Bla bla bla. It goes on and on and on. Then 90% of the book is spent describing foreplay though they actually never have sex because she isn't eighteen yet. There was kissing, smooching, touching, moaning, underwear-removing every ten pages or so. Like, can we read about something else, please? Ugh.
I don't get to know much about her (I can't even recall her name as I'm writing this) besides the fact that she's an orphan and never dated a guy. What does she like? What is she like? What does she want? We don't know. No, wait. We know what she wants, or rather who she wants: Max Goldstein. That's all she can think and talk about. Her whole life literally revolves around that guy, which is sad because it makes her look like a protagonist with no other aspirations than being with the guy she's obsessed with.
Grow up! That's what I found myself thinking during all of the book. Grow up and realize life doesn't go that way. It's about much more than one guy, no matter how much you think you love him. She found a way to relate everything to him: she's walking out the airport and she's like "those are the doors Max walked through ten minutes ago." Yeah, and? WE. DON'T. CARE! Ugh. I wanted to pull my hair out, scream and cry at the same time. It was so frustrating to read about such a poorly developed character.
The story was boring and bland. Max isn't a great love interest. I'd rather stare at a brick wall than read about him. Surely it wouldn't feel like wasting my time as much as reading that book did.
And the writing style, Lord, the writing style. Reading about things like: I let him explore the topography of my body or God was generous when he made Max (lmfao. No, don't think so) or He knew how to work the equipment (talking about her body here, like wtf?) or I could hear his visceral breaths (no, just no) or I wasn't going to let the experience of my F'd mother (can't you write the damn full word, what the fuck is F'd in the NARRATION of your book?) Gosh, I'm so pissed off. I can't even. I'll stop there.
Still have 2 more books to read. I'm sorry, I'm not a DNF-er. It will feel like a void if I don't but may the Lord be with me. Give me patience God, give me patience.
Most of the book happens in a weekend. A WEEKEND! What happens in a weekend that's so important that it takes 400-ish (ebook) pages to be told? Nothing. That's what happens.
She spends most of the time gushing over Max. He's so this, he's so that, his fingers, his hair, the butterflies in her stomach, etc... Bla bla bla. It goes on and on and on. Then 90% of the book is spent describing foreplay though they actually never have sex because she isn't eighteen yet. There was kissing, smooching, touching, moaning, underwear-removing every ten pages or so. Like, can we read about something else, please? Ugh.
I don't get to know much about her (I can't even recall her name as I'm writing this) besides the fact that she's an orphan and never dated a guy. What does she like? What is she like? What does she want? We don't know. No, wait. We know what she wants, or rather who she wants: Max Goldstein. That's all she can think and talk about. Her whole life literally revolves around that guy, which is sad because it makes her look like a protagonist with no other aspirations than being with the guy she's obsessed with.
Grow up! That's what I found myself thinking during all of the book. Grow up and realize life doesn't go that way. It's about much more than one guy, no matter how much you think you love him. She found a way to relate everything to him: she's walking out the airport and she's like "those are the doors Max walked through ten minutes ago." Yeah, and? WE. DON'T. CARE! Ugh. I wanted to pull my hair out, scream and cry at the same time. It was so frustrating to read about such a poorly developed character.
The story was boring and bland. Max isn't a great love interest. I'd rather stare at a brick wall than read about him. Surely it wouldn't feel like wasting my time as much as reading that book did.
And the writing style, Lord, the writing style. Reading about things like: I let him explore the topography of my body or God was generous when he made Max (lmfao. No, don't think so) or He knew how to work the equipment (talking about her body here, like wtf?) or I could hear his visceral breaths (no, just no) or I wasn't going to let the experience of my F'd mother (can't you write the damn full word, what the fuck is F'd in the NARRATION of your book?) Gosh, I'm so pissed off. I can't even. I'll stop there.
Still have 2 more books to read. I'm sorry, I'm not a DNF-er. It will feel like a void if I don't but may the Lord be with me. Give me patience God, give me patience.