“Yeah, ok, so, let me explain something.
The writing in this book, actually, is excellent. Ironic and humorous and subtly poignant and really fantastic.
But everything else was so laughably, ridiculously awful. My God. Now, I also really was not a fan of Meg Rosoff's other book, How I Live Now. I liked the concept but was very disappointed in the rest of it. So maybe this isn't surprising.
The plot and characters and execution are just so... hilariously stupid. Like, maybe that's the point, and I should be reading it all 'ironically' and laughing at the quippy writing. But the thing is, it's not quite laugh-out-loud hilarious enough for that, and I was just so 'what is this' through my whole reading that I couldn't enjoy it. It's not absurd in a good way - think Nick Hornby - but in this way that makes me feel really sorry for it. I was not a fan.”