A book with a number in the title, One Plus One, Jojo Moyes
I can summarize my feelings about this book into a single word: disappointed. Coming off the coattails of the amazing, poignant Me Before You, I expected a great deal more from Moyes than what I got here. The plot of this novel was formulaic; like every other romcom before it, One plus One relied on your typical girl and boy hate each other, fall in love, but then realize there’s something crappy one of them did before the love part so they break up, but then eventually fall back together storyline. What a tired trope. The only redeeming aspect of this story is the characters. Moyes is wonderful at creating and fleshing out solid, three-dimensional characters. In particular, she hones in very well on lower-middle class families struggling to make ends meet. They are believable, likeable, and relatable to most people reading the story. Sadly, the characters and the often-witty repartee between them are wasted on such a derivative plot. The realistic struggle of a single mother doing her best to scrape together a life for her two children was poignant, but again, underscored by the predictability of the plot. Also, I’m not a huge fan of a story where a woman must rely on a man to save her—and this most certainly is that type of story. Chick lit at its worst, I am afraid to say. Save yourself the trouble and skip this one.