I finished Hoffman's Rules of Magic. Yes, I know it took me over four months but some nights I don't get to read. Well, most nights I don't get to read, not to mention it took me a good two hundred and fifty pages to even like the book. It was difficult to catch onto and I felt like the first half was a rehash of it's sequel, Practical Magic, with scant interest in the main characters (the aunts, Frannie and Jet (short for BRIDGET *screams*)) and their brother Vincent. Until their aunt dies and BOOM. The book comes to life and I cry and I sob and then more people die and it's so beautiful suddenly and it ends right where Practical Magic picks up which is a perfect place to stop and I don't know if I could be an Alice Hoffman fan or not. She weaves a good story, albeit with a massive slow build I wasn't expecting, and has moments of pure brilliance in her writing that take one's breath away but surrounding that is a mountain of lazy editing, in that the repetition, the detail doesn't hold my attention.
Will try a third one of hers, though, since I think it's me.
But up next is Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked. I haven't been this excited about a book since Geek Love, honestly. It takes a lot to get me to go looking for a book. They usually find me.
Will try a third one of hers, though, since I think it's me.
But up next is Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked. I haven't been this excited about a book since Geek Love, honestly. It takes a lot to get me to go looking for a book. They usually find me.