Confession: I basically bought this book for two super lame reasons. The cover is orange and there's a quote on the back from Jayne Anne Phillips. It should be mentioned that I've never actually read Phillips, but know of her for her reputation among other writers that I admire (notably that David Foster Wallace mentioned his jealously of her success as a writer and as an instructor).
Touted as a collection of stories of women and the complications of love, I was full of doubt and hope. Phillips writes, "...laugh-out-loud funny, full of sharp, incisive humor that explains us to ourselves." Explain me to myself? Sure thing.
Ultimately, I found these stories to be surface level pap on the lines of Jane Green or Sophie Kinsella...minus the humor. That'll teach me to think that I can read like a girl.
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