Katie Akins's Reviews > The Last Thing He Told Me

I received this book through Book of the Month. I poured myself a glass of wine, settled into my hammock chair on the back patio and relished the idea of a good read.
As soon as I cracked open The Last Thing He Told Me, a bird pooped in it.
Now, as far as I know, birds can't read, but I'm not Snow White. And so, rather than heed the obvious warning from my avian brethren, I snapped a picture for social media, wrote a quippy caption, and after making sure the bird didn't poop in my wine, I read it anyway.
Turns out birds can read, and never again will I doubt their taste in literature.
This book is boring.
If I can skip five pages, skim the sixth, and still know what's going on, that's not good. Based on the writing, I am legitimately not certain this author has ever heard anyone have a conversation before. The dialogue is like listening to a drunk uncle tell you about that trip he took to Florida in '85 where nothing happened.
The author wastes no time dumping you directly into the problem, and that is exciting for approximately ten pages before it jumps backward like that same drunk uncle going, "But before I go into that, I should go back, and tell you how she met Owen." We all just wish you'd started there and hope to God this story has a point.
Because the audience is never introduced to Owen and Hannah's relationship through anything but tiny flashbacks, I had no skin in the game, and therefore, did not care at all about what happened to these characters. Yes, it would be jarring to have your husband disappear one day, but since I've never met your husband, I literally could not care less about his fate. I actually cared more about her ex-fiance than her current husband. He seemed nice, and I'm not sure why she hated him so much.
That is Problem One.
Problem Two is that the author goes to great pains to create a conflict out of a situation with a relatively simple solution. The real problem is that the main character refuses to accept this relatively simple solution through the whole book for no reason other than burning curiosity and idiocy, which makes it increasingly frustrating to follow her around.
And that leads me to Problem Three.
The entire relationship in this book leans on the tired trope of evil stepmother and bratty, entitled stepdaughter and their journey to closeness. I am so very tired of every step-relationship being built on this trope. I had to endure the attitude of a thoroughly unlikeable teen while she berates, ignores, and insults her eager to please stepmother who keeps her pain inside like a true winner. The problem is that we, the audience, are inside for every agonizing moment of Hannah's self doubt. The result is that I disliked both of them very much by the end.
In closing, if a bird poops in a book you are about to read, take the warning.