Brooding, self-loathing Tom Cartwright is a modestly successful ghostwriter whose ability to spell correctly and meet his deadlines has landed him the job of writing the autobiography of the wildly popular soap-opera star Georgina Nye. His imbibing, chain-smoking agent is swooning, and his offbeat, sweetly supportive live-in girlfriend of five years, Sara, is ecstatic—new carpets!
Yet even as he feverishly pens ( mostly makes up) Georgina’s “straight-from-the-heart” life story (he’s thinking maybe a thoughtful, feminist angle), he is lusting for Georgina herself. Soon Tom—poor, misguided, painfully careening Tom—thinks he can have it a woman at home who loves him, and a hot, panting affair with a television diva. With a little planning, can it really be so hard?
In this clever, rollicking tale of sexual misadventures and the modern man, Mil Millington hilariously explores the sometimes foolish choices mere mortals can make when that certain chemistry forces us to think not with our heads or our hearts but with . . . well, things that usually lead us straight into serious trouble.
Mil Millington is a British author of humorous books. He first came to public prominence as a writer when he created a web-site entitled "Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. The site's main content was (and remains) anecdotes describing arguments and misunderstandings between Mil and his German girlfriend Margret, mother of his two sons. The site was hosted on Wolverhampton University's servers, but Mil was required to remove it when it was pointed out that certain people failing to spot the site's intended humour might find a way to be offended by it. Such was the popularity of this site that Mil was offered a publishing deal, and wrote a novel with the same title as his web-site, but with new content, published in 2002.
He has since gone on to write A Certain Chemistry (2003), Love And Other Near death Experiences (2006), and Instructions For Living Someone Else's Life (2008).
Mil also is the co-creator of the site www.TheWeekly.co.uk, and has contributed to several newspapers, notably The Guardian and the Daily Express. His fans can subscribe to his irregular on-line newsletter.
The Guardian newspaper named Mil as one of the five best debut novelists in 2002. His works have been translated into Japanese, Russian, Dutch, German, Swedish, Finnish, Hebrew, Spanish, and Serbo-Croat.
He is known for a liking for computer games, for having unusual hair-styles (including bright scarlet hair), and for taunting Americans for their inability to spot irony.
Mil is currently working on the screenplay for Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About for Working Title films. He lives in England's West Midlands with his girlfriend and their two children.
Nick Hornby meets Tom Sharpe: not as good as either. Some good set piece sexual comedy scenes, counterpointed nicely by some philosophical-scientific observations, but I didn't buy into the premise, or the main chatacter's, Tom motivation.
As Sara, Tom's long term love interest, observes "celebrities always have sex with other celebrities". Not only do I think this is a truism, since 1983 I have held a theory why this should be. That was the year that Alistair Temple's sister starred in the school play. Alistair Temple was a school friend of mine. A good sportsman, his small wiry frame kept him out of mainstream success at school. His sister was also small and wiry. So it was surprising that she should be cast as the romantic lead in the school play. What was more surprising was the effect her performance had on the boys who saw it. They couldn't believe they had overlooked her beauty and charisma. I managed to get to good look at her once the lighting, the makeup and the dress had be been taken off her - yep, still Alastair Temple's sister. The reason only celebrities have sex with other celebrities is because they are not going be to as disappointed with each other as ordinary punters would. Not sure why Millington had to make George a soap opera star, Fiona could have done as much damage.
Resorted to skimming in many parts. I was curious to find out what happened, and satisfied by the conclusion (glad it wasn't too unbelieveable/romantic-comedy-ish), but the main character irritated me, and I found the narrative interruptions by "God" to be pointless and unfunny (though I feel like the author thought he was being oh so witty).
I must have laughed loud and long a couple of dozen times or more while reading the first 100 pages of this 404-page book; and I must have laughed about three times all told, and then only in a charitable way, during the rest of it.
Tom Cartwright's a ghostwriter in Edinburgh, Scotland; he's a deft and willing hack and he lives with a girlfriend called Sara with whom I promptly fell in, and remained in, love. But, however skilled Tom is with the written word, he's an idiot. When the chance comes along to earn oodles of dosh ghosting the autobiography of TV soap star and public heart throb Georgina Nye -- "She's been voted the best arse in the UK by the readers of two major magazines" (quoted from memory) -- he grabs both chance and soon thereafter the admired arse with both hands.
Most of this refreshingly badly written novel thereafter is devoted to sexual rompery and Tom's difficulties in deceiving and later attempting to mollify Sara. The best character in the book is Tom's hard-drinking, hard-smoking, hard-swearing and all-round hard-as-nails agent Amy, who every time she appeared had me grinning (partly through recognition; I'm sure I've met her at BEA or the London Book Fair); unfortunately she didn't appear often enough.
I'm not sure quite why I became so irritated by this book. I think the reason might well be that Tom is such a depressingly nauseating, selfish, egocentric protagonist. Normally I like amoral protagonists, because they possess a certain detached wit; not so poor Tom. I imagine if you're 13 you'd love this book.
A pretty enjoyable read, even if the ending is somewhat inevitable. The God as narrator actually worked for me since I too picture God as a regular guy who is as interested in how things work as the rest of us are. I can't say the protagonist is truly likeable, but that's part of the appeal of this slightly weird novel.
This is a hard one to rate. He's still a funny writer, but, let's face it, it's about an affair. I just don't do well wtih books about that in the least, especially when they try to justify it, etc. Maybe it will get better at the end, but i liked the first a lot better.
Mil Millington’s sophomore novel A Certain Chemistry is an interesting read in many respects. The plots revolves around Tom Cartwright, the protagonist and central narrator who ghostwrites for a living. He lands a lucrative deal writing the autobiography of Georgina Nye, a famous Scottish soap opera star. Things get complicated when Tom begins to fall for Georgina, risking her career and his five year relationship. The novel has two narrators. The first is the aforementioned Tom, and the second one is Millington’s interpretation of “God.” This aspect of the book is interesting, but in the end it becomes too heavy handed. God regularly interrupts Tom’s narration on the state of his two relationships with musings about the nature of sex and love. This is intriguing because God claims to not understand the inner workings of his creations. Instead, He insists that he just thought of what he wanted to create, and it came into existence with the mechanics worked out. Applying this to sex and love, God cites various hormones and molecules that he created to make humans want to procreate. He insists that he didn’t want sex to be “a big deal” and repeatedly apologizes for the failings of his creation and the pain that it causes. This aspect of the novel really drives home the theme of the novel and ties in the title. Nonetheless, it underestimate’s the reader’s ability to read between the lines and determine the author’s theme by repeating the theme dozens of times. By the final chapters, the theme is no longer an interesting interpretation of human nature, but a trite simplification of Darwinian thought. Millington’s characters occasionally fall flat as well. Tom is perhaps the most developed character, but he too often falls into the stereotypical male who wants it all. His guilt about his affair are believable until Sara actually leaves him, at which point her accuses her of “ruining the relationship.” Tom’s immature response to his break-up completely pulled me out of the book. His self-absorbed narration was maddening. Georgina was completely reduced to her beauty and her fame. This was how Tom saw her and she did not seem to rise far above his limits of her. The most obvious example of this was how she left Tom after Sara left him, fearing that his ex-girlfriend would sell the scandal to the press and ruin her career. At that moment, it was obvious that Georgina was very shallow. Sara was similarly reduced to a stereotype. Her dialogue was often simplistic as she portrayed “the clueless girlfriend” for the majority of the novel. Her speech often falls into a bit too much verbal/dramatic irony, simple author’s tool to increase Tom’s tension and guilt. When she finally realizes Tom’s infidelity with Georgina, her dialogue improves, and Millington makes more of an attempt to characterize her beyond her red hair and penchant for mixing odd foods. The end of the novel didn’t seem to fit it as a whole. It literally involved divine intervention, and even then it couldn’t pull off any sense of wholeness. The process of Sarah and Tom going from meeting at a mutual friend’s party two years after they separated to him coming in her house for coffee to them making out and possibly getting back together feels very rushed. While the rest of the novel scorns traditional interpretations of romance, the implied reunion of Sarah and Tom rushes wholeheartedly into the territory of stereotypical romantic comedies. The overbearing theme of the novel was how love and relationships are imperfect by design. This was grossly contradicted by Sara’s seemingly light decision to “give it another go” with Tom. It leaves the reader with an odd feeling, because one wants to enjoy a happy ending, but cannot fight the feeing that perhaps this ending was not quite deserved. Although the novel does not quite hold it’s own when critically analyzed, it is an entertaining read. The prose is well-paced and witty. Millington has a talent for describing awkward situations with humility and ease. His portrayal of the characters’ sex lives is raunchy and honest without being offensive or base. Overall, I would recommend this book to readers who are looking for an easy read. While Millington attempts to portray some heavy themes, they do not resonate with the reader as much as Tom’s witticisms or Amy’s heavy drinking. The book is not particularly memorable, but that does not mean that it is not an entertaining or funny read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I believe it was the wise philosopher Haddaway who once asked, 'What is love?' (before pleading with people not to hurt him any more). "A Certain Chemistry" is Mill Millington's attempt to answer that question in his own dry way.
Being a lowly ghostwriter, Tom seems to have yielded to a life of mediocrity, going nowhere in his career. But at least he has his girlfriend, Sara (awww).
Then he lands the contract of his life as his alcoholic (yay!) agent lands him the job of ghosting the autobiography of a very famous soap star. Accepting the task after mentally rubbing pound signs from his eyes, Tom sees the job as a chance for progression. But when he begins to fall in love with his subject, and subsequently begins an affair, he can't help but feel that the universe is just plotting something against him.
Those who are familiar with Millington's "Things My Girlfriend And I Have Argued About" website are already aware of his take on relationship foibles and complications that come from a main character who's life is part tormented artist and part Charlie Chaplin movie.
The story itself is actually quite unremarkable. Written by another writer, it would probably sit comfortably amongst the many other jilted lover style novels already out there. But comedy is where Millington strikes best.
Writing comedy is hard, but doing it in novel form is even harder. For one, it's a question of balancing a good story with the right amount of humour. Lots of serious writers often inject humour into their stories. Christ, even Stephen King has made me laugh out loud. For two, you're basically competing against the giants of comedy novelists such as Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams.
Millington pulls it off by being his own thing (that is to say, not a sci-fi writer) and combining down to earth, coming of age, storytelling with an even mix of situational comedy scenarios. I say that because certain scenes could almost be adapted for sit-com TV, in the bumbling idiot way that only sit-com characters can get away with.
It's not always funny, but when it is it's fucking hilarious. I mean out-in-public, not-giving-a-shit-who's-looking-at-you-funny hilarity that is so hard to find in books. I lament using the phrase "sharp wit", but it's described as such in various formats for very good reason. Only instead of the sharpness of a small blade or even a sewing needle; it's more the sharp finish of a goddamn broadsword.
By that I mean Millington's prose is not what you would call 'succinct'. The book doesn't contain long paragraphs as it does huge swathing passages of ever-lasting character build up and train-of-thought. Comedy may be Mill's strong suit, but methinks brevity may not be (one chapter goes on for over a hundred pages).
I don't intend that as a criticism as such (it's almost theatrical having Tom announce his thought process to the reader), but I am saying that in some parallel universe, an editor probably got wrist cramps and had to increase their red pen budget when reading through the manuscript. I think it would have been nice to reign in some of the filler in favour of getting to the interesting parts of the novel, but maybe I'm an impatient reader.
What I find most appealing about "A Certain Chemistry" is the interruptions of a character who reveals himself as God, interjected between various chapters. In it he brings the action to a halt as he (in typical Millington fashion) explains how love and all its packaging is less about fate and destiny and more about the biological chemistry that he left in our bodies (hence the title of the book).
I'm honestly a big fan of Mill Millington and I think "A Certain Chemistry" is one of my favourites, largely because it juxtaposes the humour (and to reiterate, it's fucking hilarious in places) with Tom's assertion of his own intelligence. I think Millington wouldn't be too displeased if I compared his protagonist to "A Confederacy Of Dunces'" own Ignatius Reilly.
A Certain Chemistry Mil Millington Romance 404 pages
Brooding, self-loathing Tom Cartwright is a modestly successful ghostwriter whose ability to spell correctly and meet his deadlines has landed him the job of writing the autobiography of the wildly popular soap-opera star Georgina Nye. His imbibing, chain-smoking agent is swooning, and his offbeat, sweetly supportive live-in girlfriend of five years, Sara, is ecstatic--new carpets!
Yet even as he feverishly pens (read: mostly makes up) Georgina's "straight-from-the-heart" life story (he's thinking maybe a thoughtful, feminist angle), he is lusting for Georgina herself. Soon Tom--poor, misguided, painfully careening Tom--thinks he can have it all: a woman at home who loves him, and a hot, panting affair with a television diva. With a little planning, can it really be so hard?
In this clever, rollicking tale of sexual misadventures and the modern man, Mil Millington hilariously explores the sometimes foolish choices mere mortals can make when that certain chemistry forces us to think not with our heads or our hearts but with . . . well, things that usually lead us straight into serious trouble.
When I get to a place where I'm not up for the books in my queue, I'll check out my fave authors' sites and see what they're reading. Christopher Moore has been reading some Mil Millington (Pete Peterson, John Johnson...some people's parents). He wrote that he laughed all the way through. I, however, do not find this guy as funny as Chris Moore does OR as Chris Moore is. I do, however, find it weird that as much as I love his writing, I've sort of struck out re: reading books he's liked. Hmmm...
I didn't find this book atrocious, just a bit boring. There are writers and agents and celebrities and girlfriends and infidelity involved. I'll admit there are a few places I laughed loudly, but not enough to buy a copy for everyone I know.
However, giving Chris Moore another chance by reading another of Millington's books: Love and Other Near-Death Experiences. I'd put it on the back burner and read it another time but it's due back at the library next week, so I'm gonna burn through to see if it redeems Chemistry. I doubt I'll be moving on to his others...
Entertaining, although not as witty as I would have preferred. A ghostwriter with a live-in-girlfriend gets hired to write a famous soap star's autobiography. He puts it together, and then winds up having an affair with her, hoping all the while he can get away with it and keep his girlfriend happy (whom he still loves). The book was the very definition of there-but-for-the-grace-of-God for me--scenes where he's desperately trying to keep his lies straight, keep a poker face in front of his girlfriend, etc. were well-written enough to make me cringe. But the humor wasn't as humorous as Millington's other works, most notably "Things My Girlfriend and I have Argued About."
I was really disappointed by this book so far. I am a huge fan of Mil Millington's website (Things my dirlfriend and I have argued about) and his newsletters are hilarious. So I was expecting big things from this novel.
Instead, I have found it tedious. I forced myself to read the first 10 pages or so, hoping it would get better, but it hasn't yet. The writing is clicheed and the jokes try too hard. The characters are boring. I really really hope it improves.
Millington is that oddly contemporary thing: the author who's pretty much at his best writing for websites and email newsletters. Nevertheless, this novel is a pretty well done take on chick lit from a douchey boyfriend's perspective.
Millington's debut, Things My Girlfriend and I Argue About, is one of the funniest books I've ever read, so it was with some trepidation that I picked up his followup. I'm pleased to report that although it's not quite as genius as his debut, it is still exceedingly funny, and has a bit more depth to it. Tom is a slacker in his late 20s, living in Edinburgh with his long time girlfriend, and working as a freelance writer and sometime ghostwriter. When he is given the opportunity to handle the autobiography of a hugely famous soap opera star, his world is turned head over heels as he falls deeply into the cliche of the writer falling for the star.
We've all read book and seen films about a nobody and a superstar engaging in a furtive affair, what's amazing is that Millington manages to keep it fresh and lively. Tom is appropriately insufferable as he cheats on the woman he loves to indulge in fantastic, room-destroying sex with the appropriately charismatic and alluring star. All of which raises the uncomfortable question of how any person might react if a charming, interesting, and beautiful star made a pass at them? Of course Millington's got a trick up his sleeve, and that trick is a running commentary between chapters by God. Yes, God with a capital G. And the news God has to deliver has to do with the chemistry of the title. These often-hilarious narrative monologues by God are where Millington explains how chemistry works in relation to love and sex. This is fascinating stuff, and the one weakness is that it's delivered in such a hilarious way that the serious implications can be overlooked. Indeed, I'm going to go back and read just those sections in order to understand them better, because they clearly have major implications on how one views relationships, fidelity, love and passion.
Almost lost amidst all the hilarity is a rather good satire of the publishing industry, as agents, publishers, and publicity heads are all skewered mercilessly as the ghostwritten celeb book is nursed to completion and launched. Some of the supporting cast are perhaps a little over the top (the hypochondriac editor, the ice queen publicity superstar, the boozy agent), but it is a comic novel, so some licence must be given. Of course, not lost in all this, is the fact that Tom is trying to have his cake and eat it to. And there's little doubt that he will get his just desserts -- for his excellent girlfriend is no fool, and he's too much of an idiot to sustain any kind of elaborate deception. The template for these types of comic stories are that after much trial and tribulation, a chagrined sinner will eventually win back the hand of his true love. I won't reveal what happens here, but I will say that it is exceedingly satisfying and strikes just the right note. A wonderful second novel that definitely demonstrates that Millington is no one-hit wonder.
Having read another of this author's novels recently, a lot of comments were along the lines of 'not as good as his earlier work' so thought I'd give him another chance. However reading this was like eating tasteless sweets, as it was crying out for some breaks between scenes played for laughs and an incessant inner monologue, and it was too much without the comedy being funny enough.
It started off reasonably well, as the narrator Tom described his long term girlfriend in a fairly charming way and was then assigned a soap star's autobiography to ghost. Once he'd met the actress a couple of times, though, it lost it's charm and I didn't feel invested in any of the characters except the suffering girlfriend. Part of this was that most of the characters were caricatures rather than people, I'm assuming to ham up the comedy, but also because the narrator was so self-absorbed. In fairness to Millington, I think this was deliberate, especially when considering the end of the book, but as a first person narrator this got quite tiresome quite quickly.
Again, this might be deliberate, but none of the characters seem to have any personality. In common with his other book I've read, the attraction always seemed to be physical, or in the abstract as a partner rather than anything personal, and despite Tom's declarations of love the words felt quite hollow. But too often the other character's behaviour seemed to be a setup for a gag or witty observation, and in a fairly condescending tone rather than a jocular one, always laughing at, rather than with. Perhaps linked to this, the attraction didn't feel real either, and called for too much of a suspension of disbelief.
Perhaps I just don't have the same sense of humour, one that sees the same gag about going to the toilet to take a phone call, and other people would happily skip over the flawed cast just for the jokes, but I couldn't, although at least there was a sense of justice in the ending.
I’ll cut right to the chase: I didn’t really like this book.
The main character was kind of pathetic. I also thought that the “god” interjections did far less for the story than the author had intended. And while it may have been all in good humour, this story is basically about a man (and god) trying to justify cheating on your partner with science. I don’t wholeheartedly disagree with the facts, my quarrel lies with the lack of blame and excuse after excuse made for the protagonist when there was nothing to excuse. He’s just an ass and a selfish one at that. A man who wanted everything and to take no responsibility at the same time. Annoying.
I picked this up because it was recommended to those who enjoyed High Fidelity. Being one of my favourite books, I came into this one with high hopes but knew it probably wouldn’t be as good. There are many similarities between the two novels but the execution is on a totally different level.
I had some small laughs during A Certain Chemistry and I finished it in only a couple of sittings. Overall, it was good enough to finish but not good enough to recommend.
Hugh Mortimer always looked like a man who’d just returned to work from after an embarrassing surgical procedure. (10)
I’d had a big bowl of Sara’s spaghetti-and-clotted-cream stew before I came out, and it was lurching around in my stomach like a moderately sized live dog. (49)
You know how children gallop odd-legged—like Igor crossing Frankenstein’s laboratory carrying a torso—when they’re pretending they’re riding a horse? That’s how I was moving. (50)
“Cool. Let’s go, then.” She bounced off again. Where did she get this kind of springy energy? It wasn’t normal. She was like a woman in a tampon advert—she even had the white jeans on, for God’s sake. (52)
“I’d just prefer to pass on the whole fame business, thanks. Write the words, collect the check, buy a carpet. Fame’s just wrapping paper: a few seconds and then the wrapping paper’s in the bin.” (54)
I took the bus into town early and made my way up to Carlton Hill. My being late for our first meeting was a factor in making sure I was there ahead of time, but not the main one. It’s a steep walk up there, and when George arrived I wanted to be already at the top of the path, lounging nonchalantly against the railings like Marlon Brando leaning against the jukebox in The Wild One. Rather than appear on my hands and knees, gasping for air, like, um, well, Marlon Brando trying to walk up Carlton Hill, later in his career, I suppose. (64)
Edinburgh’s an extraordinarily spiky city. There’s little of the thudding, sterile blocks you see when you look out over many modern places. It looks more like the stalagmite-strewn floor of a cave: random and pointy and crystalline. (66)
“And thirty?” “Aye, that’s special too,” she said. “Though not as special as thirty-one—you don’t get to be another prime number for six years after that. That’s the kind of thing that really makes you take stock of your life.” (82)
A bit harsh, I thought. I am a writer, after all. I think about things deeply, and from various perspectives, day after day; it’s my job. It’s unavoidable that I’m going to be pretty damn insightful and sensitive—I’m a writer. (116)
The air became sticky, and the streets smelled like wet denim. (118)
I stopped my tidying and looked at her. She spooned the remainder of the trifle into a smaller bowl, each scoop coming up with the sound like a wellington boot being pulled out of the deep mud. When she’d finished, she too stopped and looked back at me. (138)
Screaming so loud, in fact, that it actually picked up on his mike as a scratchy, high-pitched squeal—like the sound of a terrified mouse being cast into hell. (164)
I started to consider this notion, but quickly switched to taking a bite of my sandwich. I wonder who first decided to cut sandwiches diagonally. I bet that at the time, when they first displayed their triangular slices to the stunned world, they were thought of as subversive, shocking, and antiestablishment. There were probably furious editorials in all the papers and, when the initial scandalous platters were carried in, men led their fainting wives from the room amid chaos and uproar. Now, of course, it’s a mark of the most twee kind of refinement—they’ve gone completely mainstream. Just like trousers arriving in respectable society—as an outrageous fashion that referenced the legwear of the French Revolutionary peasants—to appalled howls, and now being the norm. I bet diagonally cu sandwiches have an outlaw past. (230)
I ought to have said, “I’m staying right where I am, and phoning the police. Because you’re a fuck-witted, juvenile loser with grave self-esteem problems and I couldn’t give a shit what you or anyone else in the pub thinks. Moreover, I ridicule the implication that gay men are cowardly, and the fact that you reach for such stereotypes shows you are ignorant and prejudiced—possibly it’s even a smokescreen produced by the misplaced self-loathing you feel about your own, secret homosexuality.” However, George was there, so I replied, “Lead the fucking way, mate.” (240)
The quadriceps femoris is the Judas in your leg. (266)
“Obviously. But the bit of the story I’m kind of fishing for here is how you came to turn up at the door to the shop looking like you’d just done a triathlon while being gang-raped.” (275)
Amy topped up her Chianti. The wine sloshed in flamboyantly and s bit spilled over the edge of the glass. I watched it snake down the side, like a tear of blood.
Jesus—“like a tear of blood.” I’d actually thought that. When you find yourself thinking in the kind of similes that normally remain safely in the diaries of fourteen-year-old girls, then you know you’re in a bad way. “Like a tear of blood.” Jesus. (337)
His smiles and expansively open body language were ribbons and bows on a dog turd. (344)
What kind of miserable fucker must you be if Hugh is telling you to count your blessings? It was like being talked down from a ledge by Sylvia Plath. (355)
Even caked in antiperspirant, my armpits were like tiny tropical swamps. (359)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A ghostwriter lives a ghosted life as well when he has an affair with the woman about whom he is writing; he gets so caught up in his internal drama, he misses the boat.
The main review of this book says Tom is "brooding". That's the last word I'd use to describe him. Self-centred, yes - but perhaps if he'd brooded a bit more, he wouldn't have got into such a mess. However, back to MY review.
I loved this book immediately because of the writer's voice. He has a humorous way of describing things in ordinary life that strike a chord, like his description of a "shop of bollocks" (a New Age store), how he reacts to people handing out leaflets on the street, and the angst he goes through when trying to buy a present.
That's why I'm still reading it, even though Tom is cheating on his girlfriend. Normally I would've thrown the book in the bin the minute he sleeps with George (she's a girl) - but I'm enjoying watching his thought processes (mainly panic) as he struggles with his love for Sara vs his addiction to George. Whether that tolerance will last till the end of the book, remains to be seen. Right now I can (almost) forgive him for being stupid and succumbing to a moment's temptation - but if he keeps the affair going, he's certainly going to lose my sympathy.
At various stages in the book, the author inserts a short chapter by God. Tom's story is supposed to illustrate a lesson He's trying to teach us, and we're repeatedly asked not to judge or draw conclusions from it. I assume this is the author's attempt to take the sting out of Tom's infidelity - he knows that 99% of women will think Tom's a complete louse, whereas he wants us to stick around long enough to understand that he's just a helpless male who succumbed to an overwhelming passion (yeah right). It doesn't work, the God character is rather silly, and his explanations do nothing except interrupt the flow of the narrative.
I do like the author's style and if I see another book by him, I'll certainly read it. But to try to make a cheating boyfriend likeable is a tall order.
The second, often difficult book, may even be better than the first.
Tom is a ghost writer, hiding behind other people rather than writing his own books, for which he has the talent but fears failure.
He is living with sarah - works in a super market.
He takes on the job of writing the biography of Georgina Nye - top soap star - and the two fall for each other.
Tom feels no remorse and does what any man would do. There are even chapter breaks where god explains why he does what he does. These sections work very well and I don't know if the facts are true but there are a number of startlers,
The attempted affair with a top star in secret provides the opportunity for some excellent set pieces (much like the first book) and some of the better ones include Tom getting into fights in pubs and inadvertantly sending a voicemail message to Sarah whilst they are humping in the toilets of a train. The ensuing dash to try and recover the VM before sara hears it is incredibly funny.
Eventually, Tom is caught out by a mixture of his own paranoia and being dobbed in by a jealous colleague at a party held in honour of the author.
Tom then finds himself dumped by both girls and spends a fair time paying for his sins, in a section that is again uncomromising and showing Tom in a bad light as he sends increasingly abusive text messages.
The book then moves on two years and you think that Sarah and Tom are set for reconcilliation - this would be too obvious and the author avoids this unnecessary happy ending.
Top, laugh out loud comedy, again dominated by excellent set pieces. This time the story is not as outrageous and it pulls no punches in answering the question posed on the front of the book.
I’m hesitant to classify this book as chick lit because there are few things I hate more than the phrase “chick lit,” but in this case it was the first thing that sprang to mind when I was trying to describe it. Funnily enough, the book’s central character is male, so that probably places it firmly outside the standard definition of chick lit. But as far as the content is concerned, it makes light of cringeworthy interpersonal situations, includes romance or the lack thereof and has a television star for a main character. Chick lit.
The male character I mentioned is Tom Cartwright, an average guy with a normal, long-term relationship with a girl he chased for a while before finally winning her over. He’s a ghostwriter by trade and that lands him the opportunity to write the “autobiography” of TV star/celebrity Georgina Nye. Originally fancying himself above celebrity worship, he finds himself drawn to her and…I won’t spoil the rest.
The book could have been a little darker or a little depressing, but Millington keeps the tone bright and the plot moving fast enough that you don’t have too much time to dwell on Tom’s ever-larger problems. Tom, despite making a series of epically bad decisions, still remains mostly likable—and funny. Not intentionally funny maybe, but more of a he’s-a-total-trainwreck funny.
I hate classifying books as “beach reads,” but that’s another good way to describe this book. It’s not about rich PR associates frolicking around New York City or the Hamptons (which is what comes first to my mind when I think of the beach read and chick lit category), but it’s got amusing, light-hearted, beach read-qualities that are perfect if you just don’t want to think too hard while you unwind at the end of the day.
Oh, I so wanted to like this. I remember discovering Mil's "Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About" website back in the early days of the Internet*, and thinking I'd stumbled on some crazy secret. I laughed. It was funny.
However, just like 99% of the blog-to-book conversions out there, Millington's humor--best in small doses--doesn't really translate into a book-length work, it turns out. Bummer. Most of this book takes place inside Mil--er, Tom's--brain, with him neurotically thinking everything over, instead of doing anything. And that's really the joke: Ha ha, Mil--er, Tom--is neurotic. Ha ha. I can only take a few pages of that before my eyes start glazing over, so I couldn't finish this.
Also, what was with God narrating? The least funny part, at least of the 1/4 or so I read.
*True story: the site still looks like the early days of the Internet. It's still funny.
There's something charming with a novel written by male writer that tells story about his girlfriend.. And this one is actually a sequel of 'Things me and my girlfriend argue about' (it's funnier and more complicated than in sounds)where Mil is being Mil, and have an infatuation with a female movie star who is young, bright and of course, beautiful. They seemed to click etc.. but he's already in a relationship ( a long one too).. I won't spoil much further.. but it's definitely a good read for guys or girls(despite the thickness of the book!). It's not an average chick-lit (or , what should we call it if it's a male?) and you'll smile, laugh and be sympathized with him as you read along.
My own boyfriend recommended this book to ME, of all people. Apparently he forgot the premise and he just remembered it as being funny. This book was a nightmare for me. Yes, there was humor and the story did make me laugh out loud a few times. All of that aside, romantics, dreamers, and optimists need not bother with this unless you'd like to have generally all of your idealistic visions destroyed. This book left me annoyed with how stupid and selfish men can be sometimes. And I did not know what the last page was all about, but if anyone has read this and can fill me in, that would be great.
Not quite up to the level of Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. But let's be fair: Millington's first novel set the bar pretty high. Millington's sophomore novel is a solid follow-up. It's really quite funny in spots, though there's a fair amount of The Office-style of painfully awkward funny. If you like that sort of thing, this is definitely worth a read. I do enjoy some level of laugh-at-other-people's-discomfort (who doesn't?) but there were a few spots when I quite literally had to put the book down and walk away when the awkwardness ratcheted up just a touch too high.
Consistently funny, and in a few spots outright hilarious. Tom was sometimes a bit hard to handle, but I absolutely loved Sara. Smart, funny, and most importantly, did not forgive Tom for his unfaithfulness. She's strong and I loved it. Also, I'm sooo glad they didn't get back together in the end. It was refreshing to have a more realistic (pessimistic?) view of love -actively discouraging the reader from believing in soul mates.
Favorite scenes: -Tom naked in the dining room with the children in the other room -Tom and his erection during his interview with George -Sara absolutely DESTROYING Tom during his big romantic gesture. God that was wonderful.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Normally, I would find this lad-ish portrayal of a young ghostwriter's quest for sex and alcohol rather tedious. But this is written by Mil Millington, one of the funniest writers of all time. I actually fell off my chair and onto the floor laughing the first time I was exposed to his prose style. Tom, an Englishman in Edinburgh, gets the job of ghost writing an autobiography for soap star Georgina Nye, his girlfriend Sara's favorite. Naturally, he winds up convinced that his great love for both of them will mean he can bed them both. Not so, but far otherwise. Oh, and God makes appearances between chapters, to explain what's really going on.