DNF
Title: With A Twist
Author: Deirdre Martin
Publication Info: Berkley May 2009
ISBN: 0425228037
Genre: Contemporary Romance
I’ve been pondering a new segment of book reviews, wherein I explain simply why I didn’t want to finish a book. Normally, if I don’t finish it, I don’t review it. But after some Twitter discussion over the past few weeks, enough people wanted to know the reasoning behind why I didn’t finish a book that I figured I’d try to explain.
I didn’t finish With a Twist by Deirdre Martin because, while the hero was very interesting, smart, complex, and dedicated, the heroine was too irritating for me to tolerate. It wasn’t because she’s French, or that she has that innate Parisian skill of being brusque to the point of rudeness, or that she’s prickly and not at all impressed with the hero. She is all of those things, but that didn’t bug me much. I kinda liked her for that part of her character.
What pissed me off is the numerous mentions of the heroine’s financial irresponsibility. Natalie is a waitress in her sister’s bistro in Brooklyn, and given some of the conversations in early scenes of the book, it seem Le Nat has a shopping problem. She’s cut up her credit cards, she’s got piles of debt, she has a job and an apartment – and yet maintains an attitude that she is entitled to a rich, luxurious life merely because…she showed up. And she wants it so ergo she deserves it.
What sent me over the edge is that Nat is one of those people for whom it seems real consequences don’t apply. She wants to be a manager in a New York restaurant, in Manhattan because Brooklyn isn’t good enough, and she wants to live in Manhattan – though see above re: credit cards, debt, and job as waitress. But wait! A rich, connected older friend of the family will allow her to use his incredibly opulent, gorgeous, full furnished apartment in the UN neighborhood on the east side for…free? But of course. It is Natalie.
Financial irresponsibility is common, and a major problem. And it’s not an unforgivable sin, despite the American attitude toward poverty that if you’re poor, you did something morally to deserve it (omg don’t get me started on that. Rage, I has it like damn). But the blithe sense of entitlement that allowed Natalie to believe that everyone else had the problem, not her, and my increasing irritation that she really needed a good long Extreme Makeover: Attitude Edition, like NOW, coupled with her lack of self-knowledge or acting as if she might know better any time soon prevented me from reading further, despite my enjoyment of Martin’s other books.
I disliked her so much by the end of chapter 5 I didn’t think she could redeem herself. Moreover, I didn’t want the luscious hero to waste his time for her. So I moved on and started something else.
I’m on the Team DNF here. Don’t we do this in our own lives—mention that we couldn’t finish X because of Y? I just put down a Kasey Michaels after the first third, having picked it up on the strength of positive recs. Since I could have spent the money on something better, I wish that the positive reviews had been balanced out by something like a DNF.
The strangest thing for me, after reading the whole thread here, is that this kerfluffle has actually served to put me off Ms. Echols’ work.
I don’t read novels for the endings. It is true that if I don’t finish the book there may be an exciting twist that I don’t find out about… but it is the author’s job to make me want to keep reading.
BTW: Many fellow academics have admitted to me that they write formal reviews without reading the whole book—often looking only at the intro and conclusion, and maybe the first chapter.
That’s not right either. The reviewer needs to be upfront on the fact that they haven’t read the book and why. Else the review is useless as well as dishonest.
It seems to me that many writers conflate critique and review. If a review is a tool to help readers make good book-buying decisions (and that’s how I use reviews), a DNF is just as valid as any other grade.
Also, a definition of what constitutes a review or not should probably have a IMO tucked in somewhere.
@krsylu: *blushes* Aw shucks! Seriously, though, you’re absolutely right about smart women with big (even heaving!) vocabularies. A lot of them hang around here.
I don’t have a problem with DNF ratings, as long as the reviewer gives a clear reason why they put it down. Maybe their reason for putting it down would cause me to put it down as well—or maybe I’ll think “hey! I might actually enjoy this; I’ll take a look at it and see!” But if they don’t post about the book at all, how will I know it exists?
Count me in on the side that wants DNF reviews. This is because at times I wonder, seriously, if I’m weird. I don’t invariably like things most other people do, but I’m willing to sample an author new to me on recommendation. I once started one of Nora’s books, and wallbanged it 30 pages in. I’m 50 pages into Julie Garwood’s “Shadow Music” and considering DNFing this book as well. Reason for both? They were actively boring me.
I depend on this and other sites for suggestions on authors whose work I want to check out. But I don’t owe the author a finish, and neither does a would-be reviewer. I would rather see a DNF rating than an F, truly, because of the trust factor.
And has anyone with a potential DNFer on her hands ever skipped forward and read the ending? Hmm? Just to see if the author pulled her story out of the DNF soup?
(I confess here and now: I have.)
Hm, Deb, I can’t recall if I did or not. I doubt I cared enough to check.
When you checked the end, did any of them save the book for you?
I would rather have a DNF review than no review at all, as long as the DNF describes the precise reasons why the reviewer could not go through the book, as Sarah did in this case. However, I agree with JaniceG that its different when a book gets a DNF because of poor writing/weak characterisation vs. character traits/behaviour that are personally annoying to the reviewer.
I have watched movies and read books with characters I disliked in the beginning, who are able to redeem themselves throughout the course of the story. A good example is Margarita Levieva as Annie in the film “The Invisible.” I actually detested her in the beginning, however, towards the end, I was crying for her.
A good book doesn’t always feature sympathetic characters; watching them grow into better people is, for me, one of the best aspects of the reading experience. Of course, I have to admit that often this transformation doesn’t happen, and then I am annoyed I wasted my time and money.
Strangely enough, Sarah’s review sort of makes me want to read “With a Twist”. Nathalie sounds like she would be extremely irritating to me, but I have a perverse need to find out whether she redeems herself eventually, and has been unfairly maligned by Sarah 😉
Rather than skip to the end (I don’t like knowing the ending, even when I can predict it) I often skip to the next chapter to see if things are getting more interesting.
I read the end all the time. Not as often as I used to (when I did it to decide whether to buy the book), but when I get to that point in the story where I’m losing interest, and it’s getting kind of late on a work night, and I’m thinking, is it worth going on? Or should I get some shut-eye?
I’m also the kind of person who re-reads favourite stories over and over again. So knowing the end usually doesn’t ruin the story for me.
“I hated this book” is a valid comment whether it comes after 25 pages or 250 pages. Reviews that convey an honest reaction to a story help readers determine what will please them. If you love stories about financially irresponsible heroines, this DNF review might attract you to this book.
We all have read thousands of books. Can we honestly say that the ones that started off bad actually got any better? Or did we just get stubborn and try to silence our distaste? I think the latter.
If a book starts off terrible and then has some surprise twist and gets much better, then the author and the editor have done something wrong. They should have fixed the opening section so the story delivered a consistent message.
I much prefer the idea of having a book fall into the category of “DNF” than the category of “Dump”. I’m not usually one for playing nice-y nice-y but I like that better. As a writer I’d rather see my novel be a DNF than thrown in the “dump”.
Actually though, I’m actually a bit mystified about how you can throw a book down with out finishing it. I personally never quit reading a book no matter how distasteful or horrible. Once I’ve committed there is no annulment. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t finish a book. Like one woman said above, I’m a book masochist. I’ll keep going no matter how much it hurts. I even read Cassie Edwards Falcon Moon all the way through (though to be fair I started skimming due to boredom toward the end). The hardest book I ever had to finish was not a romance, but Denis Cooper’s “Try” which was the grossest, most nausea inducing book I’ve ever read. Filled with irredeemable characters who are all MONSTROUS, I was ill by the end, but I finished it.
If you can’t bring yourself to finish the book, I’d rather have a DNF review rather than nothing at all. So bring it on!
*Sidenote, every time I tried to type DNF I would accidentally type DNR and that makes me think of Do Not Resuscitate. Which is still weirdly appropriate don’t you think?
I actually read this book and finished it last night, so I clicked on the review to see your opinion.
I think the main problem with Deirdre Martin’s books is that they flow into one another. Nat’s story is, in many ways, a continuation her sister’s novel Just a Taste. There are definite consequences of Nat’s addiction to shopping in that novel, and the struggle is dealt with later on in With a Twist.
And because I had read the companion book I knew why Nat was rather snooty. Its because her father was a high ranking official in the French government. The gentleman that allows Natalie to use his apartment was established in the previous book and gives the sister away at her wedding.
Plus, Natalie does grow later on in the book. She learns not to make “helpful” suggestions to Quinn’s mother and learns that she is not cut for managing a Manhattan resturant.
I think if you had given it a chance you would have liked it more
@Tina, I think that your comment illustrates the problem I have with Martin’s books.
A Romance, even one that’s part of a series, needs to be a stand-alone story.
If I have to have read a previous book in order to appreciate the one in my hand, it’s a no-go. If it takes more than half a book for the heroine to become even slightly sympathetic, it’s a no-go.
I think that’s why I feel that what Martin writes is not Romance, but chick-lit. While a good romance has some personal development, the primary focus is on the romantic relationship. I’ve found that in Martin’s books, the romantic relationship is, if anything, a tool to develop the heroine’s character, which takes them right out of the genre for me.
I still think the DNF is a fair grade.
@Suze
I completely understand your point and found that Martin’s books are becoming increasingly serialized rather than acting as stand alone romance novels.
I do have to say, however that several of her books have focused equally on the emotional growth of the hero and Just a Twist did as well.
My main complaint is that she has her characters face some situations that are somewhat unrealistic and so its hard to identify with the characters. A heroine that shops so much its become an addiction. A native New Yorker that deals with Antisemitism and is borderline agorophobic. A female soap opera star. There’s just something jarring about these characters.
Personally I would rate Just a Twist as a B- and would recommend you read Body Check or Fair Play rather than this book
Tina,
I totally agree your take on DM’s other recent offerings…
Chasing Stanley: “A native New Yorker that deals with Antisemitism and is borderline agorophobic.” Not to mention quite rude. I had a very hard time believing that the hero had the hots for a such an unpleasant person.
Power Play: “A female soap opera star.” Includes numerous allusions to her anorexia, but not acknowledging it as a serious problem… as she’s an actress, I realize eating disorders and unrealistic body image comes with the territory. However, this is romantic fiction and if we’re buying against-all-odds happy endings, we can take other departures from reality too, right? Plus the hero was a bit of an asshole.
Back to the book at hand… I didn’t finish it either initially. I went back and finished it in a moment of bored weakness, and I have to say the end wasn’t any better than the beginning except that the hero was the more irritating character at the end.
Emily said:
Anorexia? I don’t recall anything about the character having anorexia or an eating disorder. Where did you pick that up from? And yes, the hero starts out as “a bit of an asshole” but then he reforms – I think that redemption and growth are pretty common for character development. Can’t get much of either if the person starts out as a paragon.
I don’t think Martin’s books are perfect (there is a tendency to have the hero be the one doing all the persistent courting and chasing after the not-always-admirable heroines) but I find them an enjoyable read.
There are several mentions throughout the book about the heroine not eating and checking her own figure out in the mirror.
My point was that it was hard to identify with her because she’s stunningly beautiful and somewhat famous.
Yes, she was incredibly rude to people about dealing with their pets and embarrassing.