This had a slow start, a faster-paced middle, and a slower end. I unfortunately must say I was bored for most of it. Then again, this is the first literary fiction novel I've read in a while, and they don't move as quickly as most of the fantasy books I'm used to. I can, however, appreciate a book or movie where nothing really happens. But only if in the act of nothing happening, there's some internal character development or growth going on. In which case, something is happening, on a subtle, satisfying level for the reader or viewer. Some readers may have been able to find growth in the main character of this novel, some semblance of a character arc or a sense that she learned from her oftentimes harmful and destructive decisions. But I just didn't. There are certainly moments where it seems like, in her quest to sleep for long enough to wake up a new, rejuvenated person (with the help of heavy doses of assorted medication), the narrator realizes not everything's going completely according to plan. For example, her sporadic realizations that she's moved around and purchased things while asleep or in between states of sleep and consciousness. No one wants to realize they maxed out their credit card while sleep walking. But we see her continue to self-medicate, trying even harder to stock up on enough to really knock out. The most movement seemed to come in the middle of the book when she physically visits Reva's, her one friend's, hometown for her mother's funeral. There was loads of symbolism and irony, but I was just sad. The narrator resists very clear trauma she has from her own parents' deaths and less than healthy parent-child dynamics. It got frustrating for me to see a character capable of a lot of growth and self-awareness be (what I interpreted) willfully blind to the fact that she has undiagnosed trauma from her childhood. She ends up selling the house left to her in the wake of her parents' deaths, and if that was meant to be a symbol of her finally letting them go, it didn't feel satisfying enough. She didn't really solve any of her deeper-rooted problems in the process. Sleep, though fantastic, just can't fix everything about current unhappiness or lack of fulfillment, and readers know this to be some sort of fact when they pick up the book. But the execution of the concept fell short for me, and I don't have much more to say on it other than that. So I'll leave it at that.



One of my favorite quotes from My Year of Rest and Relaxation:

"I thought life would be more tolerable if my brain were slower to condemn the world around me."

Oooo, I loved this so much more than I expected! I had low expectations based on reviews from friends and the high bar Book Lovers has set. But if the premise of this rom-com isn't enough to draw you in, all of the nuanced flaws and desires of the host of characters should at least get you past the first chapter. Right off the bat, we realize Daphne Vincent has seemed to hit rock bottom -- her perfect fiancé has left her for his perfect best friend he said "nothing would ever happen with" on the night of his bachelor party. Which means Miles Nowak is in a pretty similarly low situation -- his fiancé, said perfect best friend, has also inevitably left him. Needing somewhere to stay other than the house she bought with her now-ex, Daphne ends up moving into Miles' place, conveniently taking the second bedroom. Now they're roommates, and you can pretty much guess from here how the story plays out. It's a fun trope -- heartbroken roommates turned passionate lovers. And, really, it starts out as "fake dating to spite our exes." But I thought the depth of the leads' relationship went beyond cheesy tropes and bits. I thought Daphne was a phenomenal example of a woman used to people walking out on her, afraid to fully let people in or get too close to those who might eventually drift off to things bigger and better. She has a sad backstory and struggles with letting not just Miles, but her quirky librarian co-worker friend Ashleigh, in for the entire book. And who can blame her, with the evidence we see of her dad being as flaky as she remembers him being as a kid? Miles is also such a well-rounded character, affably "nice," as Daphne would put it, and charming in all the right, quiet ways. But, as revealed through his boisterous younger sister Julia's ruminations, Miles did everything he could when he was still a boy to keep the people he loved from being disappointed, even at the expense of his own happiness and energy. Seeing how both Daphne and Miles learn to navigate communication with one another, when it seems like they'd resort to witty banter and quick comebacks all the time if they could, was refreshing and really brought their romance to life for me. I also adored Daphne's personality as it pertained to books and her career as a librarian. Glimpses of her work at the library, of making true friends with the staff as the haze of heartbreak began to burn off, and how much she loved the work she got to do with kids, made me smile at the pages. I'm a sucker for a bookworm main character unashamed to embrace the nerdiness that comes with such a title.
I'm impressed with all the little moving parts in this book too, mainly how all the smaller side characters end up being important or relevant in some way. I knew as soon as Daphne noticed that little green cottage that it wasn't just some potential fixer upper, that it would be a symbol if nothing else. I also like how the entire story moves toward the Read-a-Thon event at Daphne's library. The subtle shift in chapter titles from Daphne counting down the days until she can leave town and start over somewhere else, to forgetting to count at all, to realizing she could leave but actually wants to stay for a new life she's building for herself was duly noted. In the end, Daphne chooses Miles and herself, prioritizing herself in a way that she didn't realize she hadn't in past relationships. I really admired that about the conclusion. I also thought the traditional third-act breakup felt unique in this book's case. Everything's going right, which naturally makes you wonder when thing's will go wrong. When they do, it takes a while for the whole picture to develop like a well-shot Polaroid. First, Miles doesn't show up and leaves Daphne reeling from what she surmises is yet another "I was left before I could leave" situation. Then Peter shows up asking for Daphne to take him back, that he and Petra the Perfect Best Friend are done and never would've worked. Daphne turns him down (hell yeah), seeing as she's not the person she was when he shattered her old life, and we presume Miles has been with Petra, maybe even got back together officially with her. A dramatic verbal sparring match occurs (it's raining, cause of course it's raining), and we don't find out until way later that Miles was with Petra, but only after confronting Daphne's dad who most definitely deserved the talking to he got from both Miles (and Daphne over the phone). Rambling aside, the pacing and purposeful evasion of certain details was really satisfying for me as a reader. Daphne's learning how to be a better friend to Ashleigh in the process of embracing Miles loves her, possible heartbreak and all, also struck a chord with me. I resonated most with the recurring theme of trust meaning the possibility of pain. My life experience is that of being just an I, in opposition to Daphne being part of a we, as Ashleigh puts it. I liked reading about a girl whose default is a relationship, as my default is the exact opposite. I'm trying to absorb some of this theme's truth into my own understanding of how beautiful it can be to trust people in a romantic way, to be alright with the possibility of great love as well as great pain. It's still an entirely foreign concept to me, but isn't that exactly why we read? To transport ourselves to other realities and empathize with people and situations that seem entirely different from our own on the surface? There's a universality to the heart of this book I think a wide range of audiences could get behind, while simultaneously enjoying the silliness of a roommate love story. I'll finish with an appropriate comment about parallelism: the book starts and ends with Daphne reminiscing on the telling of stories, mainly love stories, and specifically her own. First, it's Peter, and it's his story to tell. Then, it's Miles, and it's hers and his story to tell. But he knows how much she enjoys telling her version, and that it's inevitably a funny one. :)


​
Some of my favorite quotes from Funny Story:

"'It's from a book,' I say. 'Never mind.'
'Ah,' he says. 'Not a big reader.'
'I know that's a possibility,' I say, 'and yet I truly cannot fathom it.'
'What do you like about it,' he says.
'Everything,' I say.
His mouth curls. 'Fascinating.'"

"I’m a cynic. And a cynic is a romantic who’s too scared to hope."

"It’s a library, Daphne. If you can’t be a human here, where can you?"

"But no one person can be everything we need."

"You're the reason for the word wonderful. It really shouldn't be used for anything else."

My nonfiction writing friends referenced Anne Lamott enough times over this past year for me to grow curious. Seeing as I primarily live in the world of fiction, hers was not a name I was familiar with. I agree with this book of hers being instructions on life as well as writing. For one thing, they're inevitably entwined. And the anecdotes Lamott weaves to illustrate what she's learned about the mysteries of writing through her long, illustrious career come straight from her experiences with her son Sam, her late friend Pammy, and her various students. She places these stories in parts and chapters that cover most of what I can think a book like this should contain: writer's block, publication, spirituality, self-doubt, characterization, plot and its movements, etc. It felt like everything I was hoping to read about in a truthful manner was covered, which I'm very grateful for. My pink pen underlines are all over the place, marking up particular spots I know I'll want to reference later. Especially the sentiment to take the mountainous task of storytelling one step at a time, or one bird at a time. I mainly read this book with a watchful eye for sections or certain tidbits of advice that might be helpful for the college freshmen I'll be teaching this fall. We'll be sharing a semester of introductory level writing together, and while I know I certainly have an arsenal of knowledge and stories to share from my own life, I'm nowhere near too proud to look outside of myself for illuminating texts and advice on this thing called writing. I found, though, that the layout of this book's instructions are more suited for students of creative writing, those individuals who've purposefully signed up for a class or course because they know they want to seriously write and live under the banner of "writer." So it was entirely helpful for me, but I sense may be a bit beyond what the room full of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds I'll soon be in charge of are looking for.
I had the pleasure of hearing Anne Lamott speak at an interview hosted by my university (yet another reason to adore our annual Writer's Symposium by the Sea events). I briefly met her when I handed her my copy of Bird by Bird to sign. She asked me a question I can't entirely remember now. I do remember my answer was to tell her I was one of the university's master's in writing students. Her response was, "Good for you" as she drew a heart next to her signature scrawled in thick Sharpie. I have to agree. Very good for me. 

​

Some of my favorite quotes from Bird by Bird:

"One of the gifts of being a writer is that it gives you an excuse to do things, to go places and explore. Another is that writing motivates you to look closely at life, at life as it lurches by and tramps around."

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up."

"Because for some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you."

"In general, though, there's no point in writing hopeless novels. We all know we're going to die; what's important is the kind of men and women we are in the face of this."

"Plot grows out of character. If you focus on who the people in your story are, if you sit and write about two people you know and are getting to know better day by day, something is bound to happen."

"Over and over I feel as if my characters know who they are, and what happens to them, and where they have been and where they will go, and what they are capable of doing, but they need me to write it down for them because their handwriting is so bad."

"I honestly think in order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here?"

"Sometimes intuition needs coaxing, because intuition is a little shy. But if you try not to crowd it, intuition often wafts up from the soul or subconscious, and then becomes a tiny fitful little flame. It will be blown out by too much compulsion and manic attention, but will burn quietly when watched with gentle concentration."

"Writing is about hypnotizing yourself into believing in yourself, getting some work done, then unhypnotizing yourself and going over the material coldly."

"One of the things that happens when you give yourself permission to start writing is that you start thinking like a writer."

"I don't think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won't be good enough at it, and I don't think you have time to waste on someone who does not respond to you with kindness and respect."

"All the good stories are out there waiting to be told in a fresh, wild way."

"Don't be afraid of your material or your past. Be afraid of wasting any more time obsessing about how you look and how people see you. Be afraid of not getting your writing done."

"This is what separates artists from ordinary people: the belief, deep in our hearts, that if we build our castles well enough, somehow the ocean won't wash them away. I think this is a wonderful kind of person to be."

"You notice how a writer paints in a mesmerizing character or era for you, without your having the sense of being given a whole lot of information, and when you realize how artfully this has happened, you may actually put the book down for a moment and savor it, just taste it."

"When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored." 

This book didn't end up being quite what I expected, but I was particularly hooked toward the end when the main climax and series of events began to unfold. I didn't expect it to involve Neil and Alice, two hopelessly awkward mortal lovebirds, as much as it did, but the way their mild lives intertwine with the rote routines the Greek gods have developed ended up being the main part of the plot. I liked the opportunities the author took to accentuate tropey parts of the gods' and goddesses' characteristics, like Aphrodite working as a casual phone sex operator, to Apollo being a TV clairvoyant. Clever stuff like that made some of the slower parts of the book worthwhile for me. Because I didn't really know where the plot was going for a while, to be honest. And I still don't quite know if Aphrodite had a motive for the pot-stirring she does at the beginning of the novel, or if she was just bored. If she was in fact just bored, this seems to make the most sense for the general theme of the novel I picked up: immortals have little knowledge of what it means to own up to the consequences of actions, but that doesn't mean major consequences don't exist. Aside from the amusing cover, I purchased this book with the intent to read it for thesis research. It proved to be a great example of what authors can do with the reputations of Greek gods and goddesses, the archetypes they represent, and the clever ways they can be inserted as characters in a modern setting, all crammed into a crumbling, dirty house in London to be specific for this book’s case. For me, it’s an example of what I’m not explicitly doing in my own novel, seeing as my book takes place in a fantasy world with mythological inspirations, but original characters. It becomes clearer as this novel progresses that these deities find their power in acknowledgment from mortals, and that as time moves forward, they aren’t recognized or “worshipped” in the sense that they were once used to and even took for granted. I found this really interesting as I read, to see which deities lost power or had to adapt in strange ways (Hera, Zeus, Artemis), and which seemed to adapt to "regular life" the easiest (Apollo, Aphrodite, Hermes). The concept of gods' power being dependent on mortals' belief (or lack of belief) was something I played around with for a bit in my own work, and while I've strayed further away from it now, this novel makes the concept a large part of its plot and the vices of its characters (Poor Athena, she knew all along but just couldn't communicate it in layman's terms).Aphrodite’s scheme to get Apollo to fall in love with Alice (with the perfect aim of Eros’ arrows) seems to be one of the biggest reflectors of the book’s title. Again with the main theme: with no boundaries or limits for consequences, immortal beings will do what they like and hurt mortals who very much have to deal with the consequences of potentially fatal actions. There’s Aphrodite, who messes with Apollo for reasons that seem to be either hidden for most of the book or, ironically, there is no reason other than entertainment. There’s Apollo himself, so far removed from the concept of consent that he has to ask Alice if rape would constitute as hurting her. And Zeus, bedridden and largely forgotten, striking Alice from her body with one of his lightning bolts because of a petty slight. It’s all “bad behavior,” to put it mildly, but putting it mildly completely fits the tone of the book, which I would describe as humorous in a dry, satirical kind of way. I really liked the simplistic dialogue tags, something I'll admit I'm not great at doing in my own writing. The often short and sweet quips and comebacks only add to the book's aloof aura. The imagining of Hades' and Persephone's Underworld felt creative in a classically unique way, too. Obvious thought was put into what life after life can look like, and having a Tube station function as the essential Gateway to Hell made me chuckle. While this wasn't a rapid page-turner for me, I still appreciated the vision and execution of said vision!



Some of my favorite quotes from Gods Behaving Badly:

"One thing about mortals that had never changed was that they all believed themselves to be immortal. He quite liked that about them. It was so arrogant, so optimistic. Like himself on a better day."

"Like parched earth in the rain, she drank in the wonderful contours of his face, the lively expression of his eyes---lively! Was anything lively in the underworld?---the tightening and slackening of his skin as he spoke, every hair, every pore, everything she had tried to conjure up for herself, and tried not to conjure up for herself, throughout that long lonely time without him. And she could see Neil staring at her, and she wondered if her own face was reflecting back that same dazed, amazed look."

"'It's so nice to hear you speak,' said Neil."

"The crowd was chanting, 'Who the fuck is Neil? Who the fuck is Neil?'
...
'Hello,' he said. 'I the fuck am Neil.'"

*SPOILERS AHEAD*
I got to listen to Conrad this time around?? Woohoo! And yes, I've reached the end of this series firmly on Team Conrad. The events of this book solidified it for me, but honestly not until the very end. I think this series is deeply rooted in absolutes that were established in the first book: Belly has always loved Conrad and always will, Beck was always sure Belly would marry one of her sons, all of these characters will be inextricably entwined because of their shared love for the late Susannah and the beach house, etc. A sense of nostalgia floats above the whole story, too, made stronger with every flashback scene. These absolutes aren't expected to change as the series continues, which is part of why Belly and Jeremiah being together seemed too good to be true from the get go. I really like how the book starts, how we get a glimpse of Belly's life at college navigating new female friendships and a boyfriend. But their relationship shatters when Belly finds out Jeremiah cheated on her. This immediately made their decision to get married feel doomed from the start. It was totally clear to me that they were rushing into marriage because they needed to prove that they could still trust each other and never hurt one another the way Jeremiah hurt Belly again. But that's not a reason to get married at all, and Laurel, Steven, Conrad, and co.'s reactions to the news were all completely valid to me. The riff between Belly and Laurel really made me quite sad; I couldn't imagine trying to go through with an already shaky wedding without the approval or presence of my mom. But I'm glad the riff doesn't last the whole book, and that when Belly really needs her, Laurel shows up. I also think, considering the timeline of how long Susannah has been dead, the depictions of grief are still really accurate. My heart twisted when I realized the letter meant for Conrad was given to Jeremiah. We don't get to see what it says, but I can imagine what a letter from a late mother to her son the night before his wedding could entail. I'm glad we get to see Belly's letter from Beck, though. The lack of Conrad's name until the very last second here was also a subtly effective craft move, since it's pretty clear by the end of the book that Belly ends up with Conrad. There's still room for a little bit of doubt. Because that's the thing about Conrad that bothered me until the end: he's supposedly Belly's endgame, yet keeps her on her toes to the point where she never really knows if she can trust him with her whole heart. I think it comes down to Conrad caring so much for Belly that he pulled away during times when he wasn't emotionally stable or knew he couldn't provide for her in the ways he wanted to. That's precisely where Jeremiah stepped in: he communicated how he felt, Conrad recognized the true love he had for Belly, and he took a step back. We see in his perspective chapters how the regret really eats at him, how he never stopped loving Belly but hardly ever acted on what he wanted to act on. It just makes for a more complicated plot and romance, I guess. In general, this book's plot depending on the "will they, won't they" of the marriage happening was unexpected, and a little disappointing. Disappointing might not be quite the right word, but it expresses the divide between my expectations and reality well enough. I like how Belly and Conrad waited a few years before deciding to tie the knot, which seems to be an indicator of healthier relationship choices when compared to Belly and Jeremiah's rushing. The fact that Belly studies abroad and doesn't answer Conrad's letters as soon as they start arriving made me happy, too. In my opinion, Belly's a boy-crazy kind of female main character. Her decision to live with her girl friends from college, experience living in another country, and put physical space between her and the Fisher boys made me happy to see. I feel for Jeremiah, though; the cheating is inexcusable in my eyes, but how hard it must've been for him to tell Belly he couldn't marry her when he still loved her is unimaginable. One of the things I cared most about was knowing Conrad and Jeremiah make up after their terrible fight. Seeing Jeremiah at the wedding is closure enough. I adore the ending scene and can picture it so clearly: a rainy day, Conrad in a suit and Belly in her white dress, both running carefree toward the ocean with so much history at their backs. It's one of many scenes I'm looking forward to seeing in season 3 of the show. :) The parallelism of the book starting and ending with this scene is so good too! It hit me later on that you can half expect the boy in the scene to be Jeremiah on a first read, but have it be confirmed as Conrad on a second read.



Some of my favorite quotes from We'll Always Have Summer:

"But just because you bury something, that doesn’t mean it stops existing."

"There hadn’t been one specific moment. It was like gradually waking up. You go from being asleep to the space between dreaming and awake and then into consciousness. It’s a slow process, but when you’re awake, there’s no mistaking it. There was no mistaking that it had been love."

"A fight is like a fire. You think you have it under control, you think you can stop it whenever you want, but before you know it, it’s living, breathing thing and there’s no controlling it and you were a fool to think you could."

"'Sometimes it hurts to look at you,' I said. I loved that I could say that and he knew exactly what I meant."

*SPOILERS AHEAD*
Here I was convinced that Lola Tung's narration couldn't get any better, when in waltzes Gavin Casalegno! Jeremiah himself! His perspective chapters were magnificent. Knowing how the plot of the TV show's second season unfurls didn't take away from this reading experience. If anything, I was glad there was more of a focus on Belly, Jeremiah, and Conrad, that the extra fluff characters added to the show for the sake of drama and B plots didn't make any appearances. I'm talking about the Fisher boys' aunt and cousin specifically, but I felt the gaping Cam Cameron-sized hole. They don't really explain where he goes, now that I think about it. I guess it's just kind of assumed that Belly never called him after leaving the summer house. There was a lot less of Taylor and Steven, too. Hardly any Steven at all, really, which I was more disappointed about than I expected. I could've actually done with a little less Taylor, though she and Belly seem like the perfect friendship pairing at times: they both have incredibly selfish moments.
Susannah's death comes on swiftly and strongly in this book. It happens "off screen," so to speak, in between the events of that first and second book, but the narration style continues to jump back and forth between flashbacks and present day. I think this was especially important for the storytelling of this book because it let readers peek into Susannah's funeral, last moments, and Belly and Conrad's winter night before everything crashed and burned. I found myself once again annoyed with Belly on multiple occasions, but couldn't be surprised considering her track record. I do, however, appreciate how this book represents grief, chiefly in its range of characters. Laurel grieves Beck in her own internal world, while Belly just has to observe. Beck's boys keep their emotions in, especially Conrad who, poor guy, really needs to go to therapy. Their father has to grapple with times he fell short in the husband department. And Belly seems to grieve the loss of a second mother figure as well as the golden years of a childhood she can't ever get back, in more ways than one. It's all multifaceted and well-written. The quest to save the summer house and all it represents concerning Susannah drove the momentum of the story forward, too. Regarding the romance and the ever present "will they, won't they" of Conrad and Belly's dynamic, I still think I'm leaning towards Team Jeremiah. At some point, Belly needs to lean into the brother that's choosing to be there for her, choosing to express that he loves her and wants to be with her, rather than the brother she's still holding out hope for. There is the argument that Conrad loves Belly, needs Belly, in ways he doesn't know how to express cause, again, therapy is lacking. But I still think that Belly empowering herself to let Conrad go and be with Jeremiah at the very end of this book felt like a satisfying ending. I know it's not the ending; there's still one more full book. And this time, I don't have the third season of the TV show to guide my thinking or spoil any major plot points!



Some of my favorite quotes from It's Not Summer Without You:

"That's when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say it to somebody, show them you cared. And he just didn't. Not enough."

"We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything."

"Gone had come to mean something different, in a way that is hadn’t used to. Something permanent."

Why more people aren't talking about Lola Tung narrating this audiobook is beyond me. You mean the actual Belly is in my ear, telling me her story? I love it. I have fond memories of watching the first season of the show adaptation by myself in COVID quarantine. I cried just as hard on my rewatch with my mom about a month later. And while the second season didn't feel like it hit quite as hard as the first one, I still enjoyed gathering friends in my apartment to watch it together. I don't usually read books I've already seen the movie or show adaptations of, but this felt like an exception I was willing to make. And I can still read/listen to the third book before the third season comes out. There's something about reading a book steeped like iced tea in the concept of summer during the height of a San Diego summer. Granted, Cousins Beach and Belly's emotional rollercoaster of a love life are located on the East Coast. But as I said with Happy Place, until I'm able to experience what summer's like on the opposite coast, I'll settle for reading about it. I have my fair share of critiques for this book (and most of them have to do with Belly's decisions and attitudes), but I really think time jumps and well-placed flashbacks strengthen the overall story. For one thing, this novel is about more than love triangles and a fifteen-year-old girl beginning to hit puberty in a good way. It deals with sibling relationships, divorce, and the effects of cancer. Showing bits and pieces of summers in Cousins that were completely carefree, where Belly has tunnel vision for Conrad and enjoys the company of those around her in a more childlike way, paves the way for greater emotional reactions when the current summer is irrevocably different. It captures that bittersweet realization that some of the "lasts" of childhood slip by without enough time to turn one's head and watch them go. I also like how Conrad's uncharacteristic behavior gets an explanation at the end, that he doesn't remain an asshole, as at least every character ends up calling him at least once, through to the end. With that being said, though, I kind of got incredibly sick of Belly swinging like a pendulum between Jeremiah and Conrad. I know she's 15 and hormones rage, but she really wasn't fair with either of them, playing with their emotions and being indecisive. And bringing Cam Cameron into the equation stirs the pot, sure, but I feel so bad for him and what I suspect he knew from the beginning: Belly's heart wasn't ever really his to have. There's a lot of emotional manipulation going on on all levels (I won't say Laurel and Susannah are exempt), so at times I just wanted to take whoever was acting out by the shoulders and give them a little shake. Belly's best friend Taylor, especially. Talk about emotional manipulation. I don't have much else to say other than, somehow, I might be sidestepping from Team Conrad to Team Jeremiah. I get snagged on Belly's ideology that no matter what, Conrad is it. Romantic as the ideology is, it just limits her frame of mind and confidence so much. And when Conrad acts like he could care less about anything Belly's doing, it's just annoying to see her pining. Who's to say where I'll end up by the end of the series, though. I think if I were Belly, I'd just take a giant step back and do everything I could to make sure I didn't lose them both as close friends. But, alas, I am not Belly.

​
Some of my favorite quotes from The Summer I Turned Pretty:

"In the dark you can feel really close to a person. You can say whatever you want."

"Victory is a thousand times sweeter when you're the underdog."

"I wondered if this was the way old crushes died, with a whimper, slowly, and then, just like that—gone."