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A review by kjones31
Nothing But Trouble by Rachel Gibson
3.0
A fun, easy read. I liked both the leads and appreciated the tension in the storyline, especially since the female lead had a moral code and stuck to it. Also appreciated the frank discussion of plastic surgery. Did not appreciate the use of “celebutard” or one character calling another retarded. Don’t punch down with your jokes, Gibson.
In what is becoming a repeat irritant for me, this is another book set in Seattle by someone who clearly does not know the location. It’s in that awkward middle ground of making fake settings out of real place names.
• Newport Hills is not called “Newport” for short and has never, in my knowledge, been called “Jock Rock.” I tried to google it and all that came up was quotes from this book.
• Mercer Island is not nicknamed “Mercer.” That's what we call the boulevard of horrific traffic down the hill from me in Queen Anne (which is also not called “the Queen Anne district”).
• This is not southern California; we don’t call our freeway “the 520” unless it’s an adjective, as in “the 520 floating bridge.”
• There is no Neiman Marcus in downtown Seattle. Why not pick Nordstrom, our proud local luxury retailer?
• The museum now known as MoPOP was the Experience Music Project, not the “Seattle Music Experience.” That one is so easily Google-able. Geez louise.
But perhaps most unbelievably, Medina—for all its wealth—is not some cosmopolitan mecca of fashionable elitism and old money. It’s a bunch of current and retired tech nerds, mostly Microsoft, who didn’t grow up here (what’s with this idea that being from Kent is some big slam?) and would think a professional athlete was just about the coolest person to move into the ’burbs and distract from all the jeans and windbreakers and external monitors. Just ask Russell Wilson and Ciara. Yet here’s the author’s description:
So a serious LOL/WTF on that one…
In what is becoming a repeat irritant for me, this is another book set in Seattle by someone who clearly does not know the location. It’s in that awkward middle ground of making fake settings out of real place names.
• Newport Hills is not called “Newport” for short and has never, in my knowledge, been called “Jock Rock.” I tried to google it and all that came up was quotes from this book.
• Mercer Island is not nicknamed “Mercer.” That's what we call the boulevard of horrific traffic down the hill from me in Queen Anne (which is also not called “the Queen Anne district”).
• This is not southern California; we don’t call our freeway “the 520” unless it’s an adjective, as in “the 520 floating bridge.”
• There is no Neiman Marcus in downtown Seattle. Why not pick Nordstrom, our proud local luxury retailer?
• The museum now known as MoPOP was the Experience Music Project, not the “Seattle Music Experience.” That one is so easily Google-able. Geez louise.
But perhaps most unbelievably, Medina—for all its wealth—is not some cosmopolitan mecca of fashionable elitism and old money. It’s a bunch of current and retired tech nerds, mostly Microsoft, who didn’t grow up here (what’s with this idea that being from Kent is some big slam?) and would think a professional athlete was just about the coolest person to move into the ’burbs and distract from all the jeans and windbreakers and external monitors. Just ask Russell Wilson and Ciara. Yet here’s the author’s description:
“Teams of landscapers mowed and edged immaculate lawns in the small Seattle suburb. Some of the wealthiest people in the world lived in Medina, but wealth alone did not open doors and guarantee entrée into the exclusive community. Much to his former wife’s dismay. Christine had wanted so desperately to belong to the exclusive group of women who lunched at the country club in their St. John and Chanel suits. The older women with their perfect hair, and the younger wives of Microsoft millionaires who reveled and basked in their snobbery. No matter how much of his money Chrissy donated to their causes, they never let her forget that she’d been born to working-class parents from Kent. Even that might have been overlooked if her husband had made his millions from business and finance, but Mark was an athlete. And not an athlete of an acceptable sport like water polo. He played hockey. He might as well have been a drug dealer, as far as the people in Medina were concerned.” [emphasis mine]
So a serious LOL/WTF on that one…