I can get a little pretentious about which books I will read, not so smart my brain hurts (although even that’s fine on occasion) but nothing poorly written even though it may be wildly, flying-off-the-shelves popular. I had just read a gut-wrenching, wonderful book (We Were Liars) and picked up this little number as a completely light, no-thinking read.
But I almost gave it up as fast as you can say, “library return.” I’m glad I didn’t!
You see, I don’t give a hoot about sports unless my kids, or at least someone I know, is playing. And this book is about a young woman completely obsessed with football, and in particular, her college football team and its coach, her best friend’s dad. I wasn’t sure I could relate. At all.
Giffin is a better writer than most would give her credit, considering she writes what one might call “Chick Lit,” which tends to be just on this side of the line from full-on bodice rippers. But she’s one smart chica and writes characters with whom I could relate, sports aside. Even the sports scenes, which I should have wanted to skip entirely, read fast and bright, like listening to a great announcer at a pro stadium.
Two weeks after I finished the book, I kind of miss Shea and Lucy and Coach Carr. They’re likeable people, and an author who can write characters with whom I’d like to hang out is an author I will read.