Coming-of-age novels are one of my all-time favorites. It takes me back to the awkward days of middle school when my biggest concern was whether or not I put my name on my algebra homework. I recently found a review of M.O. Walsh's My Sunshine Away, which was touted as a coming-of-age novel set in the late 80s chock full of nostalgic references. While I came-of-age in the 90s, I absolutely love the 80s. Plus this was set in the South, so I was thrilled. The gist of the plot is that the main character (whose name I have already forgotten, I kid you not) recounts the years of his adolescence in which he is accused of raping the neighbor girl on whom he had an obsession-level crush and concludes with his turn as a father in his late 20s.
I just traveled to my hometown for a quick visit with my friends and family, and I had my iPod loaded with the audiobook; I thought I was set. Boy was I wrong. I appreciate nostalgia, first-person accounts, and adolescence. What I don't appreciate is a narrative that drags and drags and drags on. The majority of the 9-hour listen could have been eliminated. While recounting a memory, the narrator goes on a tangent about what it was like when New Orleans residents who were displaced by Katrina began infiltrating his beloved Baton Rouge. Seriously, how did that move the plot forward? There was even a point in the book where I was constructing a haiku in my head while I drove, because I was that bored. But I had to finish, because I am not a quitter! All in all, don't waste your time.
1.5 (of 4) dusty book jackets.
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