Title: Good In Bed
Author: Jennifer Weiner
Washington Square Press (Simon & Schuster)
For twenty-eight years, things have been tripping along nicely for Cannie Shapiro. Sure, her mother has come charging out of the closet, and her father has long since dropped out of her world. But she loves her friends, her rat terrier, Nifkin, and her job as pop culture reporter for The Philadelphia Examiner. She’s even made a tenuous peace with her plus-size body.
But the day she opens up a national women’s magazine and sees the words “Loving a Larger Woman” above her ex-boyfriend’s byline, Cannie is plunged into misery…and the most amazing year of her life. From Philadelphia to Hollywood and back home again, she charts a new course for herself: mourning her losses, facing her past, and figuring out who she is and who she can become. (goodreads.com)
Chick-lit books are so distinguishable. I don’t know what it is about the genre, but the covers are usually brightly-colored, sometimes there’s someone naked (or half-naked) on them. Thankfully, this is one of those times where the nudity is, at least, tactful, and goes well with the title, tastefully tacked across the shins of the woman lying on a bed, and even with a piece of what looks to be strawberry cheesecake (yum!). Who can resist that (the cheesecake, I mean. Not the title banner)? The colors promise an uplifting book, and that’s enough for me to pick the book up off a shelf.
Okay, so it wasn’t the cover that made me pick the book up; it was the title itself. Of course, I couldn’t exactly leave the book lying out, face up, while at work (I book-marked my page and turned it cover-side-down), but the title grabbed me, and held me, none-the-less. I took a quick glance at the back cover, enough at least to determine that it was chick-lit, and it wasn’t going to be some cheesy one where the two main characters play tug-of-war before finally falling into each other’s arms like bad television.
I was terribly pleased when I finally finished reading this book. I loved it. I laughed (out loud, at times, and I’m glad I was home alone for those moments), I cried (though I tried not to), and I generally had a good time going on this journey with Cannie. I loved that her life wasn’t perfect; I love how she pined after Bruce, tried to get him to talk to her even though he made it quite obvious he didn’t want to, and in general wanted to just be her friend. I loved her reaction to things; how, despite all of Bruce’s rejections, she just didn’t know how to be angry with him, because she still loved him. I loved her reaction to her mother’s well-meaning advice.
In between the little lulls in her life, Cannie tells us about her history with her mother, and with her father. She tells what it was like having her father walk out on the family, not once, but twice, and about her mother’s at-first hidden romance with her swim coach. I found myself becoming more and more sympathetic towards Cannie, especially in the “dad” column.
Jennifer Weiner paints such a colorful picture: a woman, at first scorned by her ex’s publication in a women’s magazine, who then learns to deal with her pain. Sometimes she deals pretty well, sometimes not. That’s life. Cannie isn’t perfect, and I probably wouldn’t like her so much if she was.
I really did enjoy this book. I devoured it in one day. I could hardly put it down long enough to eat, or deal with things I needed to deal with at work. I was captivated by Cannie, and by Dr. K, and even her dog, Nifkin. If you’re planning on reading this, keep tissues nearby. You’ll need them for the tears.
Originally posted on 18 December 2010.