A False Sense of Well-Being

I read the first few pages of this book by Jeanne Braselton back in 2005, when I was newly pregnant. Somehow I discovered that the main character had had a miscarriage, so in my slightly superstitious hyper-protectiveness I stopped reading it because I didn't want to think about that while pregnant.

So I saw it at the library recently and picked it up. But it seems that whatever memories I thought I had of the book were WRONG! I don't know what I was thinking it was about, but whatever I thought, it wasn't what it turned out to be. It's a book about a woman grappling with stagnancy in her marriage, I guess, and it's about family and such, but it was fairly disappointing to me. I don't *think* it was truly a BAD book, but it was not my thing. And I think mainly it was defeated simply by the disappointment of my high hopes for it.

I should have known it wouldn't be my thing when I noticed that the quote on the front cover was Anne Rivers Siddons claiming this just might be the best first novel ever, or something like that. Aw geez.