When I think about a piece of work I both loved and hated, I come up with a Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire. This young adult fiction novel followed the story of a college-aged woman who fell in love with the “bad guy” on campus. I know why I hated this book- the actual story did not make any sense, and it is frankly one of the worst things I’ve ever read. At the end of the novel, they get married in Vegas, and the readers find out that she is pregnant. Nothing about that story is remotely intriguing to me. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t put the book down.
I think this had to do with the fact that the main character, Abby or her nickname “Pigeon” (another reason I hated this book), is so relatable to a college-aged woman. I don’t define myself as put together by any means, and that same characteristic comes off in the character of Abby. So, when I removed myself from the actual story and focused on the character, I loved this book. I always wanted to know what Abby was thinking because I felt like I thought the same way as her. We made decisions the same way, and I continued to read to find out how she would decide what to do. The author did an incredible job in the description of characters. I didn’t care for the story, but I loved the characters. I didn’t like how the characters were involved in the story, but I loved how they thought and how that was such an integral part of the novel.
(I also hate that I just admitted that I love a young adult fiction novel like this one)