String Bridge
Driving in Athens is mayhem. A flight schedule delayed from bad weather. A special occasion with a burnt roast chicken. A forgotten open tap in the bathtub. A burst sewage pipe in your lounge room. Salt in your coffee. Oil on your new dress. Aerosmith singing with Frank Sinatra. Planes on the ground, cars in the sky. Must I go on?
String Bridge is a family/relationship drama that's competently plotted, and the writing captures beautiful shining moments here and there, and the main character is almost painfully human. But I never warmed to her or any of the other characters. Not even the dog. Being stuck in Melody's first person present tense narrative was . . . tedious after a while. A short while. Okay, I got sick of her pretty early on. I'm not sure why I kept reading.
I'm filing this one in the overwritten basket. If you like that quoted paragraph above, you may like this book. If you're like me, you'll find String Bridge to be predictable metaphor soup with unnecessary punctuation salad. (Aside from some random comma placement, there are a whole bunch of. One. Word. Sentences. That. Annoyed. Me. A. Lot.)
Short version: Okay story; writing style wasn't my cuppa; being in the MC's head had me humming Sarah McLachlan's "Black" without realizing it; your mileage may vary.
Love that cover, though.
