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425 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2016
IT ALL BEGINS with an enticing prologue! Science teacher George Woodbury saves the day when he tackles a gunman at the academy averting what could have been a major disaster....with many lives lost.
BUT....life as a hero takes a turn for the worse when George is accused of sexual misconduct of four minors on a school sponsored ski trip. Everyone is shocked and family chaos sets in, but the story flatlines here (for me) as it loses focus on George....what really happened....what was going on with him....and for how long?
MOST of the rest of the story revolves around George's (recently turned 17) daughter....her sex escapades under the influence of alcohol and weed....some personal difficulties of his gay attorney son and wife Joan's frustrations and indecisions regarding what to do about....well everything, AND....you won't believe how it all ends!
ANYWAY, congratulations to Zoe Whittall as THE BEST KIND OF PEOPLE has already won numerous awards and is shortlisted for others with expected publication in the U.S. not even until September 19th!
MANY THANKS to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group - Ballantine for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
For months Joan would replay this moment, trying to decipher the look on her husband’s face. Was it guilt? Confusion? Indignation? Stoicism? Acting? But nothing, not even a revolving camera of omniscience, a floating momentary opportunity to narrate, would allow anyone to truly understand the truth about George. He became a hard statue, an obstacle, a symbol.
Your father is a symbol of all that feminism has done to cause hysteria on this world. Hysteria has become law! Feminists show specific signs of mental illness, and you can see, this is what happens when these women get too much power. Innocent men go to jail because girls aren’t taught anything about being decent and responsible human beings. They are taught they can do anything, and deserve special treatment, and men have to pay for it.
She now saw in these activities the glowing inauthenticity of the Church, reaching out to the disadvantaged for some ulterior motive, to do God's work. She understood that maybe the volunteers didn't even see the recipients' faces; they saw only points in God's good favour, and used their actions as proof that they were virtuous people despite their many repeated sins.
Humans crave connection, after all, even when it’s about another’s misfortune. Perhaps especially then.
(of Joan) This new cynicism felt awful, but it came at her in moments that felt unavoidable. She didn’t automatically trust anyone anymore. Trust was now something that required an extra beat, a moment of consideration.