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pizzabrot 's review for:
The Last Piece of My Heart
by Paige Toon
Umm...sadly, this didn't convince me at all. This was supposed to be one of those guilty-pleasure books that make you feel all fluffy and warm and cute inside, right? That make you curl up in your bed and go "Awww" while reading and end up loathing your life for not having found your own personal love story yet. I mean, that's what every chicklit's goal should actually be! But this book, it didn't even come close. There was no single "Awww" moment in it for me (and I'm so easy to awe!), the book was certainly trying, but it was trying too hard. It wasn't bad by any means, it still doesn't reach the stupidity levels of The Hating Game (still looking for my review! It'll never come back, will it...), but oh my god, was it bland! I can't even make fun of it, that's how dull it was. The author's writing style didn't do anything for me and I don't understand where all the praise is coming from. What is everyone seeing that I can't see? I don't even know where to start with the review of this book. It was all so...impersonal, forgettable, shallow...and completely illogical! But I guess I'll begin with Charlie, the good old male protagonist in the book. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm just so happy how every chick-lit novel emphasizes the hotness of the protagonist's love interest because who cares about any other qualities he may or may not have. And trust me, I tried very hard to see his other qualities, I kept looking for them with a magnifying glass even, because there has to be something, something other than his body and so-very-special eyes. And I guess...he has a decent sense of humor? (wow, so unique and unheard-of) Eventually, that's all I could come up with; apart from the fact that he apparently doesn't seem to have any problems leaving his infant toddler with a practical stranger in the house. Sitters and play groups and neighbours and even his own mother often aren't allowed to take care of that baby, but hey, his wife's ghost writer he barely knows? YES PLEASE. Go ahead! Making sense is not this guy's strongest suit I suppose- but hey, at least he looks hot. Also, I still can't get over the premise of this book. So the main character is supposed to finish the dead author's book and everyone is just..okay with that, with the exception of the author's family? Who cares about the freaking readers, if my (invented) husband died I would tell them all to go to hell. And I definitely wouldn't let some random stranger into my house, read my husband's personal (!) diaries and take care of my baby. (Hot take: that baby was really annoying. I want to have babies in the future, but they have no place in books and this one in particular hogged all the screentime for herself. If I read the name April one more time or how cute her oh-so-adorable Chipmunk cheeks are...) What kind of agent lets another random unexperienced person finish a bestseller book series anyway, and that just based on blog entries alone? Am I being naive, do I really not understand how the world works or are those people in the book really not making any sense at all? And then we have our lovely protagonist, Bridget. Oh Bridget. What an annoying and straight-out dislikable main character. But Charlie describes her as an enigma, so it's all cool I guess. I suppose once again I'm just too stupid to see a character's countless impressive qualities. What bugs me the most: why on earth was she blogging about meeting her former boyfriends when she was also planning to sell a book about about them? She already wrote down everything about their histories and
the meet-ups on her blog, so there wouldn't have been anything left for her actual book. I don't get it?! What kind of grown-up person actually asks people to give them back a piece of their heart anyway? As if that's just a completely normal thing to say? I thought April was the baby in the book! Oh god, now that I think about it, so many things in this novel were just straight-out ridiculous. That woman is 34 and she fell head over heels in love with twelve men? I'm 24 and I haven't fallen that hard for even one! Granted, I may be an extreme example, but so is freaking twelve (!) men. I mean, I get where the name-calling was coming from and I'd love to repeat some of them, but only because I hate Bridget as a character so much. The way she threw herself at Charlie, just leave the poor guy alone. Eventually, he wanted to be left in peace! His wife hasn't even been dead for much more than a year, how about just...chill. You didn't get the memo all this time that he was into you, and now you're in a hurry to occupy him? I say occupy as if he was an island because she literally said that she wants to own his heart. Possessive much or just looking for a new heart transplant? The latter certainly couldn't hurt...Personality-wise, Bridget was one of the most boring protagonists I've encountered in a while, yet the ending of the book was straight-out something from Stalker Manual 101. I thought I couldn't believe my own eyes when I read this shit. This is a little spoiler, but after weeks of separation because Charlie didn't want to see her, she randomly appears in the guy's bedroom not only unannounced, but in the middle of the night. WHO DOES THAT?! And then the guy just proceeds to have sex with her? Like excuse me...What kind of insane world is that! Try imagening if the roles were reversed, if Charlie were a woman and a man would just be standing in her bedroom, wouldn't that just be super creepy? Oh wait, nevermind, that already happened in Twilight. Anyway, I seem to have to take back what I said earlier, the book may be boring as hell, but you still get enough content worth ranting about. So there's that. Still, three stars for a quick reading experience and because I tend to see the positive in every book. But this is definitely not guilty-pleasure material; it was too much lacking the pleasure. What a snoozefest.
the meet-ups on her blog, so there wouldn't have been anything left for her actual book. I don't get it?! What kind of grown-up person actually asks people to give them back a piece of their heart anyway? As if that's just a completely normal thing to say? I thought April was the baby in the book! Oh god, now that I think about it, so many things in this novel were just straight-out ridiculous. That woman is 34 and she fell head over heels in love with twelve men? I'm 24 and I haven't fallen that hard for even one! Granted, I may be an extreme example, but so is freaking twelve (!) men. I mean, I get where the name-calling was coming from and I'd love to repeat some of them, but only because I hate Bridget as a character so much. The way she threw herself at Charlie, just leave the poor guy alone. Eventually, he wanted to be left in peace! His wife hasn't even been dead for much more than a year, how about just...chill. You didn't get the memo all this time that he was into you, and now you're in a hurry to occupy him? I say occupy as if he was an island because she literally said that she wants to own his heart. Possessive much or just looking for a new heart transplant? The latter certainly couldn't hurt...Personality-wise, Bridget was one of the most boring protagonists I've encountered in a while, yet the ending of the book was straight-out something from Stalker Manual 101. I thought I couldn't believe my own eyes when I read this shit. This is a little spoiler, but after weeks of separation because Charlie didn't want to see her, she randomly appears in the guy's bedroom not only unannounced, but in the middle of the night. WHO DOES THAT?! And then the guy just proceeds to have sex with her? Like excuse me...What kind of insane world is that! Try imagening if the roles were reversed, if Charlie were a woman and a man would just be standing in her bedroom, wouldn't that just be super creepy? Oh wait, nevermind, that already happened in Twilight. Anyway, I seem to have to take back what I said earlier, the book may be boring as hell, but you still get enough content worth ranting about. So there's that. Still, three stars for a quick reading experience and because I tend to see the positive in every book. But this is definitely not guilty-pleasure material; it was too much lacking the pleasure. What a snoozefest.