The rage I feel, having wasted two days reading this abysmal, fake-grief, pretense of a love story is so red-hot that it may consume this page before I finish writing my review.
The story idea is simple: a grieving girlfriend discovers that she can talk by cell phone to her boyfriend after he dies. If you’ve ever lost a loved one, you’ve probably thought of, dreamed of, pleaded with your god for the opportunity to share one last conversation. Why couldn’t I have gotten to read THAT story?
Instead, I had to read You’ve Reached Sam, a story whose pacing, writing, and character development are so amateurish that it may have been written by a somewhat immature ten year old with the help of his mom’s thesaurus and some garage sale Trixie Belden books. By the way, that immature ten year old wrote this dreadful book in first person even though he has no idea, apparently, how women of any age think, speak, or feel.
Also, the grammar, spelling, and punctuation errors are distracting. (Yes, I know I’m reading an uncorrected proof but it’s not like this was typeset from a hand-written copy. This isn’t the 1900s, folks. I have to assume that the author turned in a manuscript full of errors.)
The MC, Julie, is profoundly unlikable. She is grieving not because Sam died but because SHE lost HER boyfriend. Julie is whiny and self-centered and carries around such a big ole bag of “woe is me” that she doesn’t have any room in it for empathy or true grief. She’s cruel to her grieving friend, mean to her mom, and even unkind to her dead boyfriend and his entire family. She literally thinks to herself that she needs to call Sam because he’ll understand how difficult her day has been. Seriously. She calls her dead boyfriend to complain about her school day. Could she be any more shallow? No, no, she could not.
No one would believe that Sam and Julie are in love from their brief, banal conversations. Where is the pining? Where is the heart-wrenching good-bye, that conversation that makes you cry, even as you realize that Julie is going to be okay and that Sam is ready for whatever comes next? Instead, they talk in cliches like disinterested neighbors who occasionally see each other in the shampoo aisle of their local grocery store.
Let’s just ignore that we will never get a clear explanation as to why she can call (but not text) Sam. I have other questions of equal importance. Why can Sam “feel” that there are problems with his family (and what’s the point of having this in the book)? And why is Sam the only one who can help them? What is going to happen to his family when he can’t call Julie anymore to get them out of trouble?
Why does Julie run around town looking for Sam when she knows that he’s dead? Why does she have a glowing selenite crystal? Also, how many flat secondary characters -- Mika, Yuki, Taylor, James, Oliver, Jay, Rachel, Liam, Julie’s mom -- are too many to include in a story? (The answer is the endless number that the author added to this book; all of his secondary characters are as flat as Stanley himself.) What does it all mean? Why should we care?
There’s a lengthy -- and I do mean lengthy -- prologue that, I guess, is supposed to make us like Sam and Julie so much that we’re grieving for them too but it’s a hot mess of clunky writing that attempts to blend memories into something like a camera fade in a movie. Major fail. It’s hard to follow and is so deeply one-sided that all we know at the end is that Julie sure does like herself but maybe doesn’t like her boyfriend that much.
The author includes page after page, scene after scene, of Julie wandering, frequently in the rain, sometimes as darkness falls, sometimes because she has to get away from whatever cliched pressures the author decided that Julie is supposed to feel, pressures, by the way, that are so tired and overused that they’re cringy and boring, almost as cringy and boring (and manipulative) as THE voicemail. (If you read the book, you’ll know what voicemail I mean.)
Finally, I hate … nope, despise is a better word … that the author aims his intellectual snobbery at community colleges, as though attending a CC is some sort of punishment that Julie has to endure because she didn’t get accepted to the school of her choice. What a terribly disrespectful thing to do. Community college is not a punishment but reading this book certainly was.
Pass on this book, folks. There are so many others much more worthy of your time.
Read all my book reviews on my book blog: bookbuzzblog.com
I received a NetGalley digital ARC in exchange for my honest review.