The dialogue pops, the voices and perspectives ring true, and Leo—Ed’s partner in crime—writes poetry that occasionally brings to mind early Tom Waits. I dog-eared so many pages that it would take less time to reread the book than it would to go back and find all of the passages I want to remember. Like AnnaandtheFrenchKiss, it’s a book that I loved so much that I hugged it when I was done reading. Yes, literally.
It's beautifully written. That should already be apparent from the excerpt above. But it's not just in the way that Schabas strings her words together. It's in the depth of emotion, and in Schabas' complete honesty. Georgia is a sharp observer—which is fitting in a book so full of cruel truths—but she doesn't always understand what she observes; she's extremely self-aware, but doesn't always understand her own feelings; she's very composed on the surface, but her insides are a mass of confusion. She's a difficult—for herself, those who know her, and those of us in the audience—mixture of mature and immature, understanding and confusion.
Sidenote: one of the panelists—who, like Voldemort, shall not be named—said that it "read like the Harlequin Romance version of Mad Max". I'm shaking my tiny fist at you, Unnamed Panelist. (But not really. Because I think it's a fabulously hilarious line. And because it's kind of true. IN A GOOD WAY.)
Anyway, on the straight-up YA side of things, the award went to Geoff Herbach's Stupid Fast, which is way cool, as it's always nice to see funny books win awards. And you can see the rest of the winners at the Cybils website.
Despite playing old codgers, he was one of life's great dandies. His actor friend Niall Buggy said: "He was the best-dressed actor I've ever known – even when I look at myself." Happily married to the actor Laurie Morton, whom he met at the Gate theatre in the days of Hilton Edwards and Micheál Mac Liammóir (they founded the theatre in 1928), Kelly was always attired off stage in hand-stitched shirts, Jermyn Street suits and a trademark bow tie.
It moved along and technically had many of the classic elements of a likable romance—including the male best friend who is suddenly hot—but for a Book about Lurrrve, I never felt any real heart. It ticks all of the boxes—including a romance for Mom—but never does more than that. In other words, there was no swooning.
Piper's birthday is on Valentine's Day. Thus, she has a huge collection of heart-themed items.
Which is ironic, as she's pretty cynical about the whole romance thing—although she's always been the dumper and never the dumpee, she's seen enough Romantic Trainwrecks to want to stay far, far away from it all.
But then, just a few weeks before Valentine's Day, one of her best friends suffers her own Romantic Trainwreck.
So, in the spirit of friendship, Piper agrees not only to help Claire find a date for Valentine's Day, but to attempt to find one for herself.
Set in a candy shop!
Gentle little romance starring a heroine who is a responsible daughter, great older sister, and good friend.
Despite all of Piper's good qualities—and her complicated feelings about her father and ex-stepfather—she never became real to me.
It moved along and technically had many of the classic elements of a likable romance—including the male best friend who is suddenly hot—but for a Book about Lurrrve, I never felt any real heart. It ticks all of the boxes—including a romance for Mom—but never does more than that. In other words, there was no swooning. To some degree, of course, that makes sense, given Piper's mindframe and disposition. But, no matter fair-minded I attempt to be, it comes down to this: a romance without any swooning is not a particularly enjoyable romance.
Recommended to: Someone looking for an inoffensive contemporary, but only if s/he's read everything else and/or is dying for a book set around Valentine's Day.