If you’re a follower of many bloggers, talkers, and reviewers in the bibliosphere (i.e., booklr, bookstagram, et. al.), you’ve probably already heard about Charlie Lovett’s new book, First Impressions. I received a copy of Lovett’s latest bibliomystery from his publisher for review.
It’s good.
For a long time I was a “Decide to read a book, finish it no matter what” reader. If I chose poorly, it was an act of contrition to the bibliogods to finish a crappy book.
But, I began to feel like Life’s Too Short for that kind of strict observance. I asked around what other readers did. Some read to page 100, which seemed like a lot. I was surprised how many were like me — finish it no matter what. Those who would drop a stinker didn’t follow any guidelines, which should have been obvious had I also lead that kind of bohemian, lawless lifestyle like some kind of flamboyantly dressed Borneo ape-man.
Then I heard Nancy Pearl’s good advice, to subtract your age from 100, and that’s the number of pages you should give a book. As you age, and your reading time on earth shortens, and you become a better judge of literature, you don’t have to be quite so full of grace for books that don’t quite deserve to take up precious reading time.
So, for me, that means 66 pages.
By page 40, Fred got his answer:
Yes. Yes, it is a kissing book.
And by page 66 (actually well before page 66 …), I was hooked. But it was good I had adopted that guidance to give First Impressions a fair shake — the opening is cheesier than the pickup lines borne bravely by our protagonist. (An aside: I had a lot of terrible First Impression puns I’ve spared you. You’re welcome.) Not that I’m cheesy-opposed — I’m a big fan of the Aubrey-Mauturin series, but when it comes to romance, I prefer it given a bit more straight.
I found myself drawn in by Sophie Collingwood, a bibliophile in modern London who inherits an amazing library and far more trouble than she ever wanted. A curious bibliophile through and through, I was fascinated to tag along with her for a fun story, intertwined with a story about Jane Austen. I’m no Jane-ite, so I’m definitely not the best one to tell you how accurate/ fulfilling/ uhhh….. Janey(?) that part of the story was, which I know is why many readers will pick this one up. To be honest, I found myself frequently wanting to skip ahead to the modern side of the tale. Not because the Jane side of the story was not interesting, but that I identified more closely with Sophie and her side of the novel.
In the end, it was a good story I’d recommend especially to Anglophile bibliophiles, and I deeply hope it’s a dandy for the Jane Austen fans out there. After all, it’s probably been at least a week since the Jane-ites had a new book to read, which can be way too long for you people. Also in the plus column, I’d rank it highly on “bibliofactor”. The book stuff was meaty and not at all the simple McGuffin some authors try to foist off on us, rather the only setting in which this story could be told. Very good stuff.
