Saturday, April 5, 2014

Liv, Forever by Amy Talkington



Liv, Forever When Liv Bloom lands an art scholarship at Wickham Hall, it’s her ticket out of the foster system. Liv isn’t sure what to make of the school’s weird traditions and rituals, but she couldn’t be happier. For the first time ever, she has her own studio, her own supply of paints. Everything she could want.

Then she meets Malcolm Astor, a legacy student, a fellow artist, and the one person who’s ever been able to melt her defenses. Liv’s only friend at Wickham, fellow scholarship kid Gabe Nichols, warns her not to get involved, but life is finally going Liv’s way, and all she wants to do is enjoy the ride.

But Liv’s bliss is doomed. Weeks after arriving, she is viciously murdered and, in death, she discovers that she’s the latest victim of a dark conspiracy that has claimed many lives. Cursed with the ability to see the many ghosts on Wickham’s campus, Gabe is now Liv’s only link to the world of the living. To Malcolm.

Together, Liv, Gabe, and Malcolm fight to expose the terrible truth that haunts the halls of Wickham. But Liv must fight alone to come to grips with the ultimate star-crossed love.

This is, hands down, the worst book I’ve read so far this year. The characters are flat and underdeveloped and the plot has enough holes to drive trucks, airplanes, spaceships or anything else you want.
I never thought I’d say this, but the least of this book’s faults was the insta-love. Which is has. Liv, our melodramatic protagonist, falls in love with Malcolm in about a second and a half, just because of his blonde locks, it appears. And it is, of course, completely mutual. Like I said, though, that’s the nicest thing the book has to offer.
The characters are some of the most soap-opera dramatic I’ve had the misfortune to read about in a while. Liv is insufferable. Think one of the Kardashians insufferable. Whining about everything around her. Malcolm has no personality whatsoever, and Gabe is a pastiche of “quirky” characters we’ve seen in tons of rom-com movies.
The writing itself is childish. Not “let’s write a YA novel and keep it simple” childish but “I don’t know how to write a proper sentence without using exclamations point or question marks” childish. How this book made it past an editor’s desk, I don’t know. It’s astounding that anyone thought it was publishable material.
These books are the ones that give YA novels a bad name, so stay away. There’s way too much to read in this world to put up with this drivel.





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