I’m not an idiot. I don’t read my reviews. No, that’s not entirely true. I read the reviews my publicist sends me, because she understands the power of a smart reader’s thoughtfully rendered opinion.
She also knows that when a bad review comes in, silence is golden. If a critic wants to say the glue boogers between the pages were more entertaining than the book itself, that’s her prerogative, but the author could go all day without hearing that.
First up–and this publication has been known to strike fear into the hearts of writers. The venerable Kirkus Reviews, founded in 1930 and avidly followed by librarians, booksellers, and industry insiders.
I love this piece because the reviewer captured what’s important and heartfelt about this book. And that, after all, is every writer’s hope.
“After facing tragedy and betrayal in New York, an aspiring fashion designer escapes to her idyllic Pacific coast hometown to raise her best friend’s two young children and finds inspiration, redemption, and love in the unexpected journey….Wiggs’s latest is part revenge fantasy and part romantic fairy tale…Timelines alternating among the present and past, both recent and long ago, add tension and depth to a complex narrative that touches on the abuse of power toward women and the extra-high stakes when the women involved are undocumented. Finally, Wiggs writes about the children’s race and immigration status with a soft touch that feels natural and easygoing… A lovely read—entertaining, poignant, and meaningful.”
:: huge sigh of relief ::
There is nothing quite like the feeling of knowing you did what you set out to do. The book that has occupied most of your waking hours for a year or more is about to be released into the wild. I’m grateful to anyone who spends time reading my books. Doubly so when she the review is well-written and thoughtful.
Blown away by this review. Thank you, @KirkusReviews @WilliamMorrow @HarperCollins #newfiction #bookreviews