I just finished reading this novel, “Happiness Sold Separately,” by Lolly Winston.
The character development was impeccable. The author did a wonderful job of painting each character’s flaws, making each of them so realistic that I can see them in my head. Their hopes, their fears, their needs and loves and wants and guilts – right there on the pages to read.
The plot was decent. It flowed, and I guess that’s what matters. The thing is, it doesn’t take you anywhere. It felt like it leaves you exactly where you started.
And what just bugged me – the ending. There didn’t seem to be an ending, except that it was the last page and the story stopped. Like the book could just keep going after that point. There was no conclusion. The strings were still hanging there at the end, because no one bothered to tie them up.
Thinking about it now, that’s exactly how life is. Everything isn’t tied together and fixed in the end, and everyone doesn’t always have their right place, and you don’t really have any conclusion to anything at all, because everything in your life around you can change in a second.
And that fact, even though it annoys me so much because I don’t like it when books do that, is what made it a great book.
I’m probably being contradictory right now. Don’t think I’d be much of a critic if someone ever offered me that job. I should get to bed now, it’s late and I’ve got work in the morning. Five days left.