I’m back on track this morning, as I knocked off Liza Palmer’s Conversations with the Fat Girl in about two and a half hours. There’s really nothing to the book, which is why it was so easy to read. Maggie, the ‘fat girl’ in question learns to love herself over the course of the novel as she pursues the boy of her dreams, finds herself a fabulous new job and finally ends a toxic friendship with her formally obese best friend Olivia.
There’s nothing new here and the writing isn’t remotely remarkable enough for me to read another of her books. Even though the easy reads are necessary for the Book A Day challenge, I’m beginning to think of them like television, good for a bit of time wasting but not really worth the investment.
In good chicklit, there’s an overarching sense of a stereotypical story looked upon in a very unusual way, some spark that keeps you interested in the characters and their outcomes. In this book, there was none of that; it fell flat, regardless of how hard the author tried. I wouldn’t even recommend this book for a plane ride. As my mother used to say, “It’s a toilet novel.”