Until Friday Night / Abbi Glines
Once upon a time, I was a big fan. Back when New Adult wasn’t a thing. Back when she was still able to pass off her work as suited for her target audience. Slowly, her novels become one trick ponies. I’ve stayed away from her books since then. It’s been years. I thought I’d given it enough time. I thought that between the time passing and the amount of books she’s written since then, there’s bound to have been some growth. Apparently, success does not necessarily equates to improvement in one’s writing prowess. That was naive of me to assume. However, I don’t blame her. I mean, why fix something that have been a proven formula from a financial stand point, right? Why stop when you’re only giving what the masses want?
Anyway, I had so much problems with this book. Ultimately, it’s the prevalent disrespect directed towards the girls that turned me off, perhaps, permanently with Glines’ writing. I’m not a fan of douchebags, and unfortunately, West Ashby is guilty of this transgression. Nowadays, characters are given passes for acting this way. In West’s case, he’s going through some family problems. And while I’m able to forgive some, I just couldn’t do it with him.
Most of the characters in this book are superficial. Boys are hung up on how the girls look. There were mean girls and mean boys making fun of the girl who can’t talk. It was just tiring to have to listen to them demean the new girl and the token slutty girl.I think my face had a perma-grimace while reading this book.
I was looking forward to reading this book because I like to read about characters who are blind, or deaf, or mute. This girl was mute because she chose not to speak after a traumatizing incident that happened in her life. I get that. What I didn’t like was how West was the only person she could speak to. Ugh. The token douchecanoe? Really? Apparently, they have this certain connection that makes him that special.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just give up. Well, I haven’t given up on a book this year. Or perhaps I should just shut my trap since I’ve got nothing nice to say? That’s not me, though.
And I never said I was a nice person.
Simon Pulse | August 25th, 2015 | Hardcover, 336 pp. | 1 out of 5 Stars