I wanted to like this book. After all, when I bought it I was looking for an intelligent, light, "beach read" -- the latest volume in my perennial quest for a novel that will entertain while recognizing that the reader just may have an IQ higher than that of the average refridgerator light bulb.

I wanted to like this book. But in its earnest attempt to be quirky and light-hearted, it succeeds only in straining credulity to the point where I, as the reader, felt no connection to the characters and finished it only because of my heartfelt belief that if I buy (as opposed to borrow) a book, surely it must have some merit.

But as I plowed through it, I became weary. And slightly annoyed. The prospective date whose photography exhibit features a piece depicting an old man having sex with a beheaded dog ... the prospective date who practices falconry -- only to have his favorite bird brutally attack his brother's dog and the protagonist's friend's hat (don't ask) on the same evening, some months before he reveals that he's gay by dating the progatonist's friend's "gay husband" ... the anecdotes around which the plot turn were not funny. They were just ... odd. All too often it seemed that Ms. McLaren was so dedicated to distinguishing herself from the flood of chick lit that she ignored a basic truism: no matter how unique the situations in which the characters are placed, if they're one dimensional they're not going to be interesting and no degree of strangeness will make the book worth reading. ( )

This book is a struggle for me, yet its the only one I've got currently, and it does have some hilarious scenes in it. Its just a world I don't know, and when the author fills 3 to 4 pages with technical dream sequences or experiments (don't really know what I'd call them) every few chapters or so, it becomes a speed bump and just skip anymore. But it's also the characters I'm having a lot of trouble identifying with. A square, technical continuity woman suddenly is deafened by the sound of her biological clock ticking. She at this point (though I have a feeling this will change) has only had her mom in her life, and her mom is a hippy dippy free lovin, coke snortin, italian alcohol consuming mom, with no concern for the mores of society. Taken back to her childhood home, she decides to find the best gene source for her child, the one she is intent on having with no relationship or interferance. Theres been incidental dates that she has gone on, but it has more the feel of not being apart of the story at all, just random people not fitting in here and there, as well as odd behaviors. But maybe thats the point. And thats where I am so far, halfway done, and stuck with it. Completely done, and I wasn't completely wrong about the father coming back....the man she found was "fatherish". I still didn't much like the book at the end, anymore than I liked it at any other point. It just wasn't my kind of thing. ( )

It is a little ironic (maybe) that on my 33rd birthday (today) I read a book about a woman having her 35th birthday. Meredith goes in for her yearly exam on her 35th birthday & gets the rude awakening from her substitute gyno, the very handsome Dr. Joe. Have a baby this year or else.....

Meredith is a "Continuity girl". Meaning her job is to check for continuity on movie sets. She sits there with a script & a notebook & watches each & every single take to make sure that the actors are using the same hand to eat with, to make sure the lighting is consistent, things like that.

And while the job sounds fascinating, the book is not. I kept waiting for it to get funny. I kept waiting to laugh out loud. After Meredith's horrifying gyno visit, she heads to a shoot in England with the mission of finding the perfect "sperm donor" and getting pregnant. All the while dealing with her Mother & the quirky production people. And let's not forget the handsome Dr Joe who keeps popping up at the strangest times.

Soon Mere realizes that she just isn't looking to get pregnant, but she is looking for love, too.

The book is touted as being funny & witty. And frankly I didn't so much as crack a smile. You want funny & witty? Stick with Meg Cabot. ( )

At first, I thought this book was unnecessarily complicated (big words, convoluted sentences) and therefore, pretentious. But then I got more into it and wound up enjoying it.

Mini-spoiler alert: I am a sucker for a happy ending and I sure got one in this book! ( )