Ghosted – Rosie Walsh
When Sarah meets Eddie, they connect instantly and fall in love. To Sarah, it seems as though her life has finally begun. And it’s mutual: It’s as though Eddie has been waiting for her, too. Sarah has never been so certain of anything. So when Eddie leaves for a long-booked vacation and promises to call from the airport, she has no cause to doubt him. But he doesn’t call.
Sarah’s friends tell her to forget about him, but she can’t. She knows something’s happened–there must be an explanation.
Minutes, days, weeks go by as Sarah becomes increasingly worried. But then she discovers she’s right. There is a reason for Eddie’s disappearance, and it’s the one thing they didn’t share with each other: the truth.
Okay. Ghosted took a lot out of me.
I suppose let me just get right to it. For the majority of the book, I thought I was destined not to enjoy it.
Sarah ends up in a meet-cute situation while taking a stroll down a street where some mysterious thing in her past occurred. The twist: her man ghosts her, and she turns into a really manic stalker lady desperate for love.
First of all, so much of the initial third of the book is flashbacks provoked by some minute detail of Sarah’s surrounding. “Oh, a trampled blade of grass? Let me launch into a convulsed anecdote about how my mysteriously absent sister stepped on a patch of grass one time.” “A gust of wind? How about that time my I could see my breath in winter!” Okay, so I might be a tad hyperbolic. These are very much not verbatim, but they are a similar formula. Seriously, the narration of this book had me eye-rolling hard.
The name-dropping was insufferable. The book mainly rotated between Sarah, her two friends, and her man. But somehow, we are interludes to oodles and oodles and OODLES of minor characters. Heaps of tertiary names. A reader really cannot be expected to remember or care about Mandy and Claire from your high-school class forty years ago.
Thirdly, can we talk about the weird amount of shoehorned fat-shaming going on in this book?
“The blue and yellow dress and the fringe had belonged to Claire; the back fat to Mandy. Her once-spiky little frame had expanded by at least five stone since school, something I’d probably have prayed for back then” (Page 60).
“With a small, skillful movement of her wrist, she lifted a perfect coil of noodle from her broth.” “I could look at any woman on earth and tell you her BMI” (Page 76).
Fourthly, the character from the quote about is the wife of Sarah’s friend Tommy, who is so perfect that she coils noodles perfectly. Tell me, how does one skillfully flick pasta noodles? AND WHO SAYS THINGS LIKE “I could look at any woman on earth and tell you her BMI”? Someone tell Rosie Walsh that literally no one talks about BMI anymore, and also, that is super rude.
Finally, let’s talk about Sarah. She meets a dude who is great and sexy and compassionate, and, okay, I’ll say it, really super attractive! If I was her, I’d be disappointed when he just up and ghosted me, too. But she goes full-fledged stalker on him. She messages his friends, tracks down his soccer practice, writes him dozens of letters she gets no answer to. And then, she has the audacity to ask, again and again and again, “Why am I doing this? This isn’t me!” Uh…lady? It sure seems like you at this point. If she pulled this crap in real life, Sarah wouldn’t have ended up canoodling with a super-sexy wood-carver; she’d end up with a restraining order.
HOWEVER. HOWEVER. HOWEVER. The plot twist at the end was so intense that it gave me whiplash. Broken neck status over here. I’m talking world-changing. My entire world shattered beneath my feet. I was NOT expecting that. I don’t know how Rosie Walsh roped me in so hard, but the twist in the end is ICONIC.
If you can make it through the first 60% of the book, during which a crazy lady tells everyone she isn’t crazy for out-and-out stalking a guy, that plot twist was worth it.