Lucinda’s boyfriend Dracula claims to be the Dracula―he sleeps in a coffin, hunts pigeons for blood, and only goes out at night. But is he really? Unsettlingly, there has been a spate of recent disappearances and Dracula may be connected. Lucinda doesn’t know for sure or which is more dangerous: dating an immortal vampire or a UPS driver with a night shift who thinks he’s one?
While Dracula sleeps, Lucinda works at a smoothie shop where her boss is a creep, and their neighbor is always either belting out Whitney Houston or yelling in Russian through the walls. Lucinda focuses on the play she’s written that’s being produced by the community theatre and a pair of sibling actors, Rory and Lauren, she’s met there.
Rory is clearly infatuated with Lucinda, and while she is out all day Dracula ruminates on next steps. Their other neighbor is a bicycle cop who clearly has it out for him, the landlord claims to have never seen Lucinda, and Lucinda’s brother Warren is constantly asking for Dracula’s help killing birds for his art. As the play’s premiere draws nearer, sinister forces are at work, though it may just be the fault of amateur actors. Meghan Tifft creates an alternate small town America, one brimming with strange delights and dark curiosities, where you can be whoever you want, thought not really, and somebody’s dinner is always another person’s breakfast.
Not sure why I actually finished this book. It was overwritten and often nonsensical in a way that was neither interesting nor entertaining. The characters weren't particularly likeable or easy to root for even when they were somehow tragic (maybe). It was confusing in a way that never paid off but also never seemed willing to commit to being altogether weird lit.
I'm setting From Hell to Breakfast aside. This book has the most fun synopsis ever, but the content inside is...different.
This book is incredibly overwritten. It honestly feels like the author is just trying to show off her extensive vocabulary, and I'm not really interested. My vocabulary is fine, and I had to look up multiple words that I could have sworn were made up. Nope. It just feels pretentious. It's full of comparisons with odd descriptions like saying gum is a "floating gonad", and someone's eyes are eyes "dark as a sitting cauldron, and also far away, lost in the prim postulations of stars."
The story is disjointed and seems unnecessarily detailed. I was so excited for this one, and I was thrilled to find what sounded like a new horror comedy book, but this one isn't going to work for me.
A random pickup from the new book section of my library.
The first thirty pages were delightful, and the book sparkled to a start with a quirky, promising energy. The thirty seven more that I made it through before finally setting this aside? Not so much. Tifft is handy with a smart turn of phrase, and the premise was delightful, but the whole thing just dissipated into a miasma of storytelling entropy. Lovely language, sure, but without direction. What's going on? Why is every conversation so increasingly and awkwardly stilted? What's happening here? Where did the sense of narrative and story arc go? Who are these people? You don't know.
The style, oddness, and craft of it might be enough for some.
I had no idea what was going on most of the time, and I’m still not sure what it was about, but at the same time it somehow felt very familiar. A very odd experience.
I really wanted to like this book, and the first chapter was great. But then, as other reviewers have mentioned, the book became practically unintelligible. The dialogue makes no sense, and none of the characters know what's going on, either. All questions that both the characters have and the reader has go unanswered. There were some funny/interesting moments, but overall this book was really disappointing simply because after a certain point, it didn't make any sense and there wasn't really a plot.
From Hell to Breakfast is, in theory, a super cool concept. Loved the idea, but I unfortunately did not care for the execution. It was fever dream-esque stream of consciousness writing that never really seemed to settle on a timeline (pretty sure a good quarter of the book was flashbacks, but I wouldn't swear to it as it was extremely difficult to tell) and the characters were painfully unsympathetic. Honestly, this book ultimately just left me cold as I really couldn't connect with the characters, the plot was incredibly plodding, and the writing was quite disconnected and frustrating.
The most confusing novel I have ever read. Throughout the entire thing I felt like I was missing every 3 pages but when I went back to reread, nothing missed was revealed. A gripping book but frustrating with no satisfaction at the end.
I picked up this novel under the understanding that Tifft’s modern interpretation of Dracula as a gothic icon could be totally unique. And it was.
But…this book was a knarly tangle of precocious and slightly gothic idioms under a premise that did not take the turns I was hoping for.
At its core, I think the concept of Dracula losing himself to a mundane life is very interesting, and for the writer in me, Tifft’s storytelling style was a lesson on the usage of borderline surrealist imagery. But this is where the meat of the story gets lost. I felt myself bending backwards to figure out where this story was trying to lead me through all these elaborate metaphors. While I felt that the two main characters’ perspectives were unreliable (which in truth made this an interesting, if not exhausting puzzle) to demonstrate the ways they have sunken into their relationship, I felt that there were too many things going on. You could feel the tumultuous nature of these characters being jostled back and forth in confusion and I was frustrated with them.
That said, the two main characters, Dracula and his gf Lucinda, felt like rich foils of each other, almost leading me to believe that they were dual personalities at one point or another. TW, Lucinda grapples with anorexia and bulimia. This contrasts greatly with Dracula, whose insatiable thirst for blood seems to haunt him incessantly. Also, from Lucinda’s perspective, the character reflects on coming to terms with, and sometimes being completely baffled by, the monstrosity that is supposed to be her boyfriend, yet all the while he tries to act in perfect harmony with domesticity. He even drives for UPS.
This book had too much. It was intriguing until it was overwhelming. And that was its downfall. I read through most of it in one sitting and I still am not quite sure how everything pieces together or what the author was trying to say in the end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Enjoyed this for awhile-probably the first half. The motif was interesting at least. Then, as the author's overwrought style overtook the narrative, I lost interest. Maybe the characters were not drawn clearly enough to survive the whiplash story telling. Willing to think it might have been my mindset and expectation that spoiled this book for me, but suffice to say I stopped reading about five pages from the end, not caring how it played out.
Did not finish this book. Was utter nonsense, it was just babbling for the first couple pages I read. None of the conversations made any sort of sense and the book continued to move from present to past and back with no indication of what time it was. Absolutely annoying.
Great concept... where this person learned to write is a mystery. It's so discombobulated and the characters are just... boring. I felt like I was desperately trying to make sense of the story... of ANYTHING in the story, really. Hated it.