In the past few years, Rachel Hauck has proven herself a master of "seasonal" books. I've never associated an author with a season before, but Rachel is becoming my go-to for a rich summer read. The Sands of Sea Blue Beach fits that bill as well. After loving Meet Me at the Starlight, I enjoyed returning to Sea Blue Beach for a deeper look at the town dynamics and some time spent with new people.
Those new people were engaging and fun as always. Emery Quinn carries some heavy emotional burdens. As seen in her standoffish attitude with her family and her workaholic tendencies, she's realistically and sometimes frustratingly flawed. Within that though, she learns the art of balance in real time--not just "work-life balance," which is almost a cliche these days, but the balance of the past and the future, of taking care of herself and showing up for other people. She embodies the novel's theme of respecting tradition while embracing innovation. That's something I rarely see characters do so well, especially in contemporary fiction.
Caleb Ransom embodies the theme too, but I think Rachel did a great job of giving him his own story, both within and outside of Emery's. He and Emery don't always hold up well by themselves, which I'll get to. Yet, Caleb is not just a mainstay in Emery's life. He is a mainstay of Sea Blue Beach, not because he's a "hometown boy," though that's true, but because he loves the town and its people. Without being preachy, Caleb grounds a lot of the characters and plot threads here, while leaning into inspirational leadership and big ideas. Again, it's a mix I don't see often and one that's hard to write well, so kudos, Rachel.
Once again, Sea Blue Beach functions as a character in itself. The town doesn't get a point of view like in Starlight, but here, that's not necessary. Here, readers get to experience every facet of Sea Blue Beach--the proverbial good, bad, and ugly. One minute, we're enjoying family night at Cottage 7 or listening to Delilah's hit albums. The next, we're dealing with the surprisingly deep implications of the East End vs. West End rivalry. The next, we're sipping milkshakes or jamming to the Beach Boys--or walking with Emery through the reality that Mom has cancer and eternity is knocking. It's life, wrapped up in the sweetness and saltiness, the warmth and the burn, of summer, and Rachel Hauck nailed it.
In the process of making Sea Blue Beach a character, Rachel also pulled off not just popping scenes, but popping settings or "photographs." Look for such gems as:
-The new Sea Blue Beach mural
-Emery and Caleb's surprise interview
-Emery's tender moment with Delilah
-The Ferris wheel
-The nods to food truck culture
-The tiny nods to '60s and '70s culture, music, and the "Jesus revolution" (I wanted a lot more)
Okay, so with all that said, what didn't The Sands of Sea Blue Beach get right? Well, not much--it's still a strong book. But if I were to compare it to a day at the beach, I would say sure, I got a bit of a burn and some irritating grains in my shoes. For instance, I liked a lot of the secondary characters. But throughout The Sands of Sea Blue Beach, it often seemed they were functioning as devices to keep Emery and Caleb's story going. It's not that they weren't developed. It's just that sometimes, they needed more purpose, more "oomph."
I'm thinking of one character in particular, especially a piece in the last third where Caleb ought to have made this person a priority. Instead, he kind of handwaves the whole situation...for reasons I still don't get. In fact, the whole subplot with this character, while engaging, seemed disjointed, because Caleb wants to be in this person's life. Yet any time someone asks, he's like, "Oh, my mom and dad are handling it." What?
I had similar feelings regarding the presence of the Lauchtenland royals throughout the book. It works to a point because as we know, the Blue family helped found Sea Blue Beach. And Emery's idea regarding the royals could've worked for this book. But then we get a twist that, while not completely out of nowhere, feels a little melodramatic. No, not "feels." Considering what else Sands has in it--Emery's mom, her legacy, Emery's family issues, Caleb's family issues, the whole East End vs. West End thing--this thread is melodramatic. That, in turn, makes the whole "royals" thing lean cliche. The last quarter of the novel leans very much into the "save our town" trope, and well...I just couldn't get into it.
There were a couple secondary threads I didn't understand or wanted more of. On the "didn't understand" front, it was the thing with the missing ads. The problem disrupts Emery's career throughout the book, and then boom. Emery mentions *once* that she figured it out. But she never truly explains how. Readers are left to try to remember, oh, there was mention of one machine with one problem much, much earlier. I remembered, so I kinda got it--but even I was going, "Wait, what does one have to do with the other again?"
On the "wanted more" front, it was Delilah and her music, her story. This doesn't come up as much as the missing ads thread, so I won't knock Rachel too hard for it. At the same time, it comes up enough that I felt like, "Okay, Rachel really wants to tell this story and just doesn't have the time." I now want Delilah to have her own book, especially since the spiritual threads in this one are kind of nonexistent. That's okay this time around, since Immanuel was such a presence last time and since I like subtlety. Having said that, I'd have liked just a smidge more on the spiritual front.
With all that said, you might think Sands of Sea Blue Beach is a three-star book. If I were splitting hairs, I guess I could go there. But the truth is, what works here is too strong for anything less than a four. Sea Blue Beach in particular has a presence that carries the novel, but in the right way. So this one still gets a recommendation, and it leaves me eager for another summer book from Rachel Hauck. (Again, maybe Delilah's story, hint, hint)? Even if not, grab your beach chair and this read for some end of summer literary pleasure.