How to be Single
by Liz Tuccillo
This review begins with blindness. Mine. Blinded at my local Target store. What a cover—a beautiful and delicate woman unzipping herself with gracefully slender arms out of an equally beautiful and delicate pastel dress.
Next my eyes absorb the title: “How to Be Single,” and then under those words icing on the delicate mind pastry this book has become: A novel.
I would never pick up this book if it was some sort of non-fiction hardback meant to show me the correct way to live my current brand of life; the single sort.
But here was a fictional account of a 30-something metropolitan woman—a snappy protagonist with whom I may be able to relate. I said to myself—staring at the end-cap of the magazine isle where this book faced out, predominately placed for quick and large sales — I’m not going to wait for the publicist to send a review copy. I’m not going to request it. I’m simply going to purchase it here with my lip gloss and lotion because it is summer (albeit the end) and I am female and I am single and the proverbial easy read is staring at me in my most favorite store.
Giddy with my purchase, I practically skipped to the car and drove back home, excited to begin such a smart, funny and relatable story.
And it did prove entertaining and well-written. For a while.
And then I began to not only grow bored, but irritated. In a span of 200 pages, the cliché “at the end of the day,” was used four times from three different characters. It wasn’t an inside joke. It was just missed by the editors at Atria Books.
But there are zingers of sentences that I re-read and underlined and marked with my super-trendy Post-it tabs. The title of chapter, or “rule” three for instance: “Decide What You Believe In and Then Behave Accordingly.” Or page 69: “She was wearing a powder-blue dress one might describe as a ‘confection’: it poufed out at her waist and made her look as if she should be on top of a jewelry box.”
Pure sweet poetry, that one.
And then about page 175 I began to feel a déjà vu sensation. By page 190 it was confirmed: I was reading the fictionalized version of “Eat, Pray, Love,” by Elizabeth Gilbert. The basic plot of Tuccillo’s novel follows protagonist, Julie Jenson, throughout a world trip she has decided to take and interview single women from all over to discover the secret of how foreign women may be doing it better.
She begins in France, moves to Italy, Brazil, Australia, Tasmania and Bali. She could fly further than this, to other places, but at page 202, I’m done.
Gilbert, the heroine of her own memoir, follows a similar path. Italy to India to Bali. And has many epiphanies that a single woman is bound to have traveling alone. I laughed and cried and adored little quips in Gilbert’s tale, such as the self-discovery of a gelato addiction. And even though I read the book in its entirety, I too was done with her self travailing by the time she and her readers landed in Bali.
Not only does the story follow a similar literal path, and the protagonists grapple with the same line of issues — singledom, self-esteem and the overall plight of women everywhere to be self-sufficient and satisfied — but the supporting characters of the novel mirror experiences of the memoir.
Take Serena, a self-proclaimed swami who becomes disenchanted with the lifestyle and beguiled by the lead swami-priest. Both have taken a vow of celibacy and don’t succeed in the follow through of said vow. Although Gilbert’s experience in learning to meditate in India is a bit more wholesome, the Eastern religion themes attempted to be followed by a very American Westerner smack of similarity.
So, what was I expecting with the newest chick lit book to hit the Target shelves? I should have known better, and at least read page 53, as one woman in this town does before she purchases any book.
Truccillo is an accomplished writer, living a dreamy writer’s existence. She was a story editor for HBO classic “Sex and the City,” and co-author of cheeky self-help book, “He’s Just Not That into You.”
I had hopes that this book would ring with similar “Sex and the City” accomplishment. (I cannot write the same of the latter mentioned. I’ve never even opened the cover of “He’s Just Not That into You,” pretentious as it may seem. Never had a desire to. I find the idea of reading 200-plus consecutive pages to discover the insights of such a title curious, disturbing and pathetic. But that is a soapbox for a different sort of column. Back to my humble review, déjà vu and overall lackluster experience with “How to be Single”.)
This review should have little effect on Truccillo’s sales. I do not attack her character or her ability to write. Having placed all that out, I will confess that I chose to put this novel down without reading the remaining 152 pages.
Those of you who haven’t picked up the phenomenally successful “Eat, Pray, Love” — you may devour this novel.
But I dare say there’s not much of a need to read both. Give one of the two a whirl. If you choose “How to Be Single,” try not to be swayed with the overuse of above mentioned cliché.
Remember: at the end of the day, it’s only time for sleep.
Shannon Calder is a freelance writer/consultant/inspiration specialist and book reviewer. To read more go to http://postcardscalder.blogspot.com
