My husband keeps telling me I need to read “real books”. By real books, he means books written for adults. After a string of lackluster young adult novels, I was starting to wonder if he was right. I needed a break from insta-love and romantic triangles. I’ve had a copy of Finger Lickin’ Fifteen sitting around my house, courtesy of a friend, for several years, and I decided it would be a quick read as well as a change of pace. A palate cleanser, if you will.
Well, I was right. It cleansed my palate, and made most young adult novels look brilliant and serious by comparison. This was the silliest book I’ve read in a long time, like a cartoon without the pictures. Don’t get me wrong. I laughed out loud many times (especially when Lula got stuck in the car window. Then I laughed so loud I distracted my husband from his own book.). It’s just so over-the-top that while it’s funny, at some point it just isn’t at all realistic. As much as Lula and Grandma Mazur shoot up the area, for example, I can’t imagine that either of them would be allowed to continue to carry a (concealed) weapon. I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t face criminal charges, for that matter.
But logic doesn’t really play into these stories. The whole point is for cartoon-y characters to engage in ludicrous behavior for humor’s sake, with an occasional aside of mystery or steamy sex, if you’re lucky (no one was lucky in this book). I was glad to see some signs of maturation in Stephanie and Morelli’s relationship, but that’s about as serious as this book gets.
So, mission accomplished. I read something short and easy (This book is maybe half the length of the YA books I’ve been reading.), and now I can go back to the stack of YA books I have out from the library, more confident than ever that they are as “real” as any other books I would want to read.