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Book Review of Sundays at Tiffany's

Sundays at Tiffany's
reviewed on + 26 more book reviews
Helpful Score: 2


This book is stupid. Really, really stupid. Sure it's light and sappy and feel-good. But at its core it's just plain stupid. Jane has an imaginary friend as a little girl. His name is Michael and he's handsome and fun and cares about her in a way that her showbiz mother never could. Then Jane turns nine and Michael goes away. He warns her, but tells her that she won't ever remember him. They never do. But Jane is different. Jane never forgets Michael and how he just left her. Fast forward and Jane is now 32. She's working for her mother, dating an actor who is only with her for her connections and BOOM--there's Michael again. Michael doesn't understand it. Neither does Jane. But the two soon find themselves in the middle of a love story for the ages.

Again, this book is stupid. It's too much like that Cecelia Ahern book, If You Could See Me Now (which, btw, was also stupid). If you can get over the complete improbability of an imaginary friend coming to life (well, I suppose it's possible if the book is actually good), how can you not be creeped out by the idea of the imaginary friend and the woman he looked out for as a little girl hitting it? Ewww. It's like incest. It's like Celine Dion and her creepy manager-turned-husband. But it's really my fault. I knew I would hate this from the beginning once I glanced at the title. There is no famous jewelry store called "Tiffany's" (which, unfortunately, is what the title is attempting to refer to). There is a TIFFANY & CO., but no Tiffany's. This bothers me more than it really should. You'd think I was an heir to the Tiffany fortune or something, the way I get so irate when people call it "Tiffany's" (although, I guess if I was an heir to the Tiffany fortune, I probably wouldn't give a crap what people called it as long as it got them through the door). But anyway, for the record James Patterson and Gabrielle Charbonnet, it's Tiffany. This is the first Patterson book I've ever read. I've heard that it is not indicative if his work, and for that I am grateful. Because if it were, I would be even more suspicious of the American public than I already am for buying this kind of worthless drivel in bestselling droves.