I wanted to like this book. I usually love chick lit – if it’s written remotely well. This is not.
The central character, Sadie, is a whiney, desperate and immature divorcee. She cries so much, and it’s not about her ex or her kids, it’s always about her stupid crush. The characters are adults, but the drama reads like bad, cliché, juvenile high school drama. And we’re supposed to be talking about the life of a grown ass woman here. A mother, at that.
Sadie’s love interest is unrealistically patient with her. Sadie’s relationship with her sister has a teen dynamic, not an adult one. Her crazy aunt Dody is a caricature, not a character.
Don’t even get me STARTED on the typification of gay men in this book. Let’s look at Sadie’s gay cousin, for example. He’s a gossipy, loud, raunchy interior designer who constantly talks about how gay he is. And he changed his name to “Fontaine.” I’m sorry, but this makes me doubt that Tracy Brogan has ever met a gay man in her life.
I hated this book. Everything about it. Beginning to end.
Book: Crazy Little Thing
Author: Tracy Brogan
Type: Unimaginative chick lit