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Stop Making Sense

I read anything that's nailed down, or even just moving slowly. Cereal boxes, candy wrappers, all genres, etc., and I don't always have much time for arbitrary distinctions like literary fiction vs. genre fiction.

I Totally Meant to Do That

I Totally Meant to Do That - Jane Borden (Disclaimer: I lived in New York for the first 17 years of my life and intermittently thereafter, and I've been in NC for the past 19. I believe I'm qualified to review this book.)

I so wanted to like this one. The usual story is the New Yawker who moves down South and is amused, frustrated, and/or horrified by the natives, and I was hoping that this book would turn that cliche' on its head. I wanted to read about how being in NYC changed the author, what maybe wasn't so great about the South, etc. But it is so superficial--NYCers tend to wear black! Southerners are big on family! (Psst--so are "Yankees.") It also lacks a cohesive narrative arc--it's written as a series of essays/blog postish chapters of varying lengths. On the positive side, she can tell a story, and she's very funny in places. I just didn't get the impression that she grew at all throughout her time in The Big Apple.

There are wonderful and terrible things about both NY and NC, but this book isn't the way to find out about them, unfortunately. Bah.