A Tale of Two DNFs

I am a firm believer in reading things you really like. I 100% think that if a book is bringing you down, and that’s not the effect you’re seeking, you should quit that book. Having said that, I almost never stop reading a book once I’ve started it. The last time I DNFed a book was May of last year! So to have back-to-back DNFs seems pretty noteworthy to me.

I really wanted to like this one! The setup has so much potential: Dr. Lizzie Wells is a professor of British literature and bestselling author of a paranormal take on Wuthering Heights. The book was optioned and then made into a popular movie a la Twilight, earning Lizzie fame and tenure in one fell swoop. We open the book with Lizzie returning to work a month after the sudden death of her husband, Philip, in a car accident.

Right from the start there were some warning signs. I mean, I knew that Lizzie was going to be mourning Victorian style, but I guess in my mind that just entailed a black armband and specific length of time before she could attend social functions or start dating again. But no. Lizzie purchases an entirely new wardrobe of black clothing. She also buys a locket from Etsy, in which she deposits a lock of her late husband’s hair. And she carries around a miniature urn with some of his ashes. Just, like, in her purse. All of this seemed a little performative to me, but I could have been OK with it, had she not made her first act on returning to work setting her ooo email message to say that during her mourning period, she would only communicate via physical letter and would not be answering any emails. And OF COURSE, she has purchased special stationery specific to this purpose. We’re only in chapter one, friends, and I’m already giving Lizzie some serious side-eye.

But wait! Did I mention that Lizzie and her late husband have a child? No? That might be because poor Heathcliff (I’m so sorry) really seems like an afterthought to Lizzie too. More on that in a sec.

So. It’s a month after the death of Philip. One single month. Lizzie goes to see Henry, Philip’s best friend and fellow attorney, to go over the estate disposition. She ends up almost kissing Henry, then flees in guilt … all the way to London for an entire summer. And what happens on her first full day in London? I’m so glad you asked. Lizzie takes poor Heathcliff to the British museum and promptly loses him, only to find him in the company of AD Hemmings, author of the macho man Bond-esque adventure series Lizzie has been reading. He asks her on a date, and she accepts. Somehow in the course of their meal at the pub, the mini urn falls out of Lizzie’s purse and rolls around on the dirty floor … and that’s basically a perfect metaphor for my feelings about this book.

Somehow this only gets us 29% of the way through the book, but I just couldn’t keep going.

Listen, I get that everyone grieves differently. I really do. But if I died and my spouse only waited one month before getting pants feelings for not one but two new people, I would HAUNT him like a Victorian. Especially if he completely neglected our (presumably also grieving) children to do it. I see that there’s probably some deep analysis to be made here about Lizzie adopting all of the surface-level trappings of Victorian mourning while completely ignoring the associated timelines, but still. This one’s a no for me.

Thanks to the whims of fate and my library holds list, the very next book I picked up was Impractical Magic. Really, I thought, who doesn’t like a tale about magic gone wrong in a small town in New England? Turns out, that person is me. I did make it a shocking 88% of the way through, but I just cannot.

After an accident led to the death of her father, our main character, Scarlett, has spent a decade in exile from the magical town of Oak Haven. Scarlett’s sister Delilah summons Scarlet and their other sister, Luna, back home because the town’s magic has suddenly gone awry. Luna quickly discovers that a swarm of magic dragonflies has infested the oak trees that are the source of the town’s magic, and everyone has to band together to both stop the infestation and figure out who is trying to destroy the town and why.

The primary issue is that none of these characters are likable or even understandable, let alone memorable. Scarlett blames herself for her father’s death and refuses to consider any other explanation. Delilah is downright mean to everyone, their mother is cold and snippy and imperious and also mean, and Luna seems like a stereotypical flighty mess. The townspeople are … fine. Scarlett’s love interest, Nate, mysteriously is still carrying a torch for her. Why does he like Scarlett? I couldn’t say, any more than I could say why she likes him.

There are some clever and funny elements of the book, but they’re balanced out by things that really pinged my ick radars. For example, Scarlett’s family runs a hotel, and portals open up all over the building to take people to various locations around the country. At one point, having been portaled to Las Vegas, Scarlett tells Nate that all he has to do to get them home is to picture where they’re going. So he pictures a very fancy hotel room, and they end up in a hotel bathroom, and in the suite outside a voice is insistently calling for Melania. Melania, I tell you! I immediately went to double-check when this book was published, thinking surely it had to be older than I realized, but no: 2024.

As if that weren’t enough to put me entirely off the book, the witches openly refer to non-witches as muggles. HP/JKR normalization is a big old red flag for me. No thanks.

Still, I tried. I made it far enough that I have a good idea of how the mystery gets resolved. I do not care how the romance gets resolved. I’m assuming that works out, but honestly, I’d be just as happy if Nate ended up telling Scarlett to re-exile herself. Sigh.