Single mom Layne is a bar tender. She’s so beautiful, men are continually propositioning her. They are terrible at it, so she laughs at them with her boss. Layne is so talented, she always opens karaoke night at the bar, and people genuinely seem to want to hear her sing.
But Layne is in a rut, so her mom submits an application on her behalf to try out for (not) the Voice, (show’s called Rising Star, which is a neat name) and off Layne goes to LA, with her bikini line all waxed and shiny and a heart full of dreams.
I love the Voice. I love a lot of reality TV. Not enough to watch seasons all the way through, I usually drop out of the Voice during the battle rounds because that show is so long. I’m fine with skipping a few Bachelor episodes, or full seasons. And I haven’t watched Survivor or the Amazing Race in years (do they still make those shows?). So probably I more like the idea of reality TV, and I think it’s a perfect setting for romance.
But really good reality TV romance is hard to find, because the characters make me so impatient. Layne is no exception – I tried really hard not to dislike her from the beginning, but she’s pretty terrible.
This story is told in first person. It uses a repeated summarising device: when Layne says ‘note to self’ she’s usually making some wryly self aware comment on her circumstances. But Layne isn’t pleasant. At first I thought she might be angry and bitter on purpose, and that this would be some kind of redemption story, but Layne has zero self-awareness of her faults. She’s bitchy about other women, and while I don’t think any woman should be sexually harassed in the work place, she had this grating whinge-brag attitude towards it.
She also makes about 5% effort towards her own success. She doesn’t have to do anything other than show up for people to adore her. My biggest irritation with this book is that there’s very little dramatic tension, no character growth, and a romance that’s physical attraction and the hero’s blind acceptance of the heroine as the most incredible woman in the world.
When Layne gets to LA, she meets cartoon villain Shawna. Shawna is spoilt and unpleasant, and inept at villainy. Layne also meets a bunch of other people, and they fall in love with her. It’s not always convenient. There are also a couple of people who should adore Layne, but don’t. How hurtful!
Layne refers to Shawna as (something) Barbie throughout the book, because Layne is always impressed by her own wit. I had high hopes that Shawna would be interesting, but they were dashed. Shawna conveniently fades into the background for most of Layne’s angst about her time on the show. Not that Layne has a great deal to angst about – she’s clearly perfect. Layne has no musical training, she just has raw talent and lots of people telling her she’s going to win.
During the audition round, Layne sets eyes on throbbingly gorgeous Beau. Beau is a country star, although I decided to picture him as Adam Levine rather than Blake Shelton, because in ranking the Voice male judges by hotness it goes Adam, Pharrell, Blake. Blake is fine, don’t get me wrong. But he’s no Adam Levine. Anyway, Beau was really problematic for me because it soon dawned on me that he never took off his Stetson. I refuse to buy romance with men wearing hats on the cover, because take those things off, where are your manners? I bet Adam Levine never wears a hat. I bet Adam Levine never goes outside. He’s kind of got a vampire pallor thing going on. And maybe his tattoos have built in sunscreen?
Beau is very taken with Layne, and even though he’s country, and she’s already dissed him to the other contestants, and she knows nothing about country, she picks him as her coach.
Rising Star follows the Voice format, with a few tweaks. One of the things I love about the Voice is how over the top the judges are after hearing two minute snatches of a song. I like how the show sometimes pretends the singer has done something innovative (they haven’t) and how the judges can look at a contestant and say: ‘I have never heard anything more perfect than what just came out of your mouth right now. You will be the biggest star this show has ever seen. I will make it my life’s work to ensure the world receives the gift of your precious talent.’ It’s such great fiction. Which is perhaps why it doesn’t translate well into fiction, because someone falling in love with you should say all that to you, and be sincere and blind to your faults. Everyone else though, is telling beautiful lies. I’d have got more out of this story if Layne hadn’t so clearly taken every adoring thing anyone said to her as a justly earned truth.
The complicating factor blocking Beau and Layne from giving in to their quivering desires is their show contracts. Judges can’t fraternise with contestants. When rumours started surfacing that Beau and Layne are sleeping together, Layne is all righteous indignation:
Women are catty creatures who are manipulative and conniving, and while I can’t blame them for looking out for number one, throwing me under the bus with vicious rumours and lies isn’t the way to go about it.
Charming. By this stage, Beau and Layne haven’t done it, but they’ve totally exchanged ‘want to do it so bad’ steaminess. If you’re going to have a no fraternisation rule, it’s because you think a contestant sleeping with a judge means the judge is going to favour the contestant. It’d be a pretty good indication that the relationship wasn’t going well if the judge didn’t favour the contestant. I’d also think, though, that wanting to sleep with a contestant is also a grey area as far as judgement goes. This would be a problem for me if I thought a judge’s impartiality was some kind of sacred trust. I don’t care. I’m prepared to go along with a fantasy where Adam Levine is single and available (and hasn’t bleached his hair), I’m a hot young singer with a dream, and when he hits his ‘I want you’ button and chair turns, he literally does want me.
However, if I was any other singer on the show in Layne’s world, it would really be a problem for me if I was trying to win half a million dollars and a recording contract, and one of the judges was clearly all hot over some amateur karaoke singer. I’d think there was some bias.
Beau isn’t interesting. He’s basically Layne’s love slave from the beginning, and he spends the book panting after her. He can’t do anything else, because in Layne’s world, you’re either 100% behind her and adoringly supporting her every move, or you’re the bitch from hell.
Lacey Black does include one thing I thought was neat: she has a ‘choose your own adventure’ style double ending. However, the book needed a better edit. Especially in passages like this:
The dress fits like a second skin and, with my vintage black ankle boots, I appear sheik and retro. Stylish.
I’m disappointed, because I really was prepared to overlook a heap of faults for a reality TV romance, but this is a boring story with a mildly unpleasant protagonist.