I wasn’t sure what to expect when Sundays at Tiffany’s by James Patterson and Gabrielle Charbonnet was sent to me for review. I mean, it sounded kind of far-fetched, even for a novel. Didn’t it? Falling in love with your imaginary friend from childhood? I mean, that’s an even bigger mental leap than, oh, say, City of Angels, isn’t it?

Or is it?

I could not put the book down. I’ve read a few of Patterson’s books in the past but it’s been a long, long while since I’ve actively read his writing. And I was reminded why I liked those few books. The writing is great. I was instantaneously swept into the book. I read it in two days. All 309 pages. I devoured each page, even the few pages with some, as FireDad and I put it, smut. (Approximately three pages, for my family friendly readers.)

The storyline? We start out with a little girl named Jane and her imaginary friend. He’s about 30-or-so and his name is Michael. Her mother is awful and Michael is, of course, her refuge. But not-too-far into the book, we learn something about imaginary friends: when they “leave” their children, the children remember nothing of them.

Or, it’s supposed to work that way.

Imagine twenty-five-plus years later when Jane runs into Michael while he is on what he assumes is a vacation between child-charges. As the two get to know each other again, you can imagine that some romance takes hold. But then Michael begins to realize why he’s really there and everything gets sort of hectic for a chapter or five. (During these chapters, don’t bother thinking about cleaning your house or removing the two year old that has crawled onto your back and is driving trucks into your hair, getting the wheels stuck. Just read.)

I didn’t dog-ear many pages in this book. Just one. And I havehavehave to share the quote with you that made me mark that page. It speaks volumes about love, far-fetched-imaginary-friend romances and what we’re all doing here.

And then I’m thinking — is it so impossible to imagine or believe? — that a man and a woman can find happiness together for a little while, which, after all, is all that we have. All anyone has.

(Emphasis mine.) And it’s the truth. Which made me love the book a little more. As far-fetched as the plot is (though beautiful, I must drive home to my readers), that idea is planted deeply in the reality that we all live in from day to day.

The book did wrap up kind of quickly, though not abruptly, and did so in a satisfactory manner. Meaning? I didn’t throw the book and the floor and tell my Husband that I was never reading another book by that author ever again. You know, like other novels I’ve read. I felt that there was enough closure to the book without the last few pages feeling contrived or forced. Thumbs up to the authors for that one.

FireDad and I had some conversations after I finished the book. He said he didn’t have an imaginary friend. I pointed out that the book (a novel, of course, but conversations with your husband are good no matter how random) said that we forget our imaginary friends when they leave us. I know that I had an imaginary friend but only because of the stories I am told. I remember nothing of this friend other than she did bad things that I didn’t want to get in trouble for and I used to push her on my swing. This book made me believe for a moment that my friend really did exist.

Anyway, if you’re looking for an easy, happy-ending read, go ahead and pick it up. (Though, I must say, this review is something I agree with regarding the front cover. It bothered me from the time that I learned Jane was a blonde!) (AND! PS! The co-author wrote many of the Babysitter’s Club Little Sister books. I’m totally amused.)

I also just reviewed another happy-ending-type book over at the Birth Parent blog. Be sure to check it out!

This entry was posted on Monday, June 16th, 2008 at 8:57 am and is filed under Book Review. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.