Book Review: Friday Night Knitting Club

I read, too, so I'll try to occasionally write about the books I've been reading.

Which brings me to the latest: Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs.

I got suckered in to reading this book for two reasons: 1) it's ostensibly about knitting. 2) Julia Roberts has signed on to be the main character for an upcoming movie.

(I'm a sucker for all things Julia. It's absolutely unreasonable and I have no idea why.)

So I searched my local library's on-line catalogue and find that it's just about to be available. I stick my name on the waiting list and get a call the next day. I pick it up and find that the library has ordered the large print version. I hate reading large print books. I have to hold the book out at arms length to be able to read it.

So, I already start out with a bad attitude towards this book.

Then I start reading and, OMG, the character development is just awful. You know the type of book where each character is a specific stereotype, but the story line is that they really aren't that stereotype? Predictable, predictable, - ugh, did I say predicable?

I hate predictable books. I find them a huge waste of time. But if I start a book, I tend to finish them because I like to give the author the benefit of the doubt.

Well, folks, FNKC is a big huge waste of time. Wait for the movie because you won't miss a thing.

Warning: Spoilers.

Stuff I wish the author expounded on or hated that she went in the direction that she did.

The main character goes to Ireland to visit her grandmother. There's a yarn shop there. Do we get to go and meet the Irish knitting folks? Nope. There's just a mention about the shop and you keep thinking that you're going to get to visit. But nope. The author decided to focus more on the racial differences between the main character and her daughter than with the wonderful world of knitting.

The dresses that the main character makes for her former best friend was supposed to elevate her to becoming a fabulous couture designer. Did it? Nope.

Bleh, bleh, bleh.