There are some books that are important because of what they have to say. There are others that are important because of how they make one feel. While it would be easy to classify Life After Yes as a book that is meant to teach readers a bit about life and becoming an adult, the true import of it lies in its emotional pull. For, it is the type of book that is easily forgotten a day or two after finishing it but it is the emotions felt while reading it that are the only thing to linger. Readers may not be able to discuss specifics months, weeks, or even days after, but they can discuss how the book made them feel. Confusion, blissful happiness, concern, dread, anxiety, hope, love, fear, sorrow – it is all there as Quinn undergoes a massive transformation from a selfish, superficial girl into someone mature enough to move on to the next stage of adulthood.

It may be a forgettable plot, but there are some redeeming qualities to Life After Yes, not including the powerful emotional connections one feels towards Quinn. Life After Yes is remarkably well-written with a depth to it that is as welcome as it is unexpected. The philosophical discussions about becoming a grown-up are brilliant as well as eye-opening, regardless of the age of the reader. The devastation and lasting trauma from September 11th are also pitch-perfect. Quinn’s trauma will dredge up memories and the strong emotions everyone felt on that fatal day. Most importantly, Quinn is so alive. She is vibrant, massively flawed, and very real. Love her or hate her, she is a force of nature.

Life After Yes has all of the hallmarks of a cute, flippant, coming-of-age romance and does teeter on that edge several times. However, Ms. Rowley’s brilliant characterizations and stellar writing save the novel from becoming too clichéd and create something more serious and philosophical than any romance story ever is. The details behind Quinn’s journey are not as important as the impressions and emotions one gets from following her on her journey and even those are not nearly as important as the lessons one learns and can adapt for one’s own life.

Talk about an unlikeable main character! It reminds me of a movie that's advertised as a romantic comedy that's neither romantic nor a comedy, a la "The Break Up.". I'm not sure why this couple stayed together. ( )

I was fascinated by this hard working, hard drinking young woman, who was far more obsessed with looking good on her wedding day than she was with her groom.Quinn's groom was a sweet mama's boy, but the book wasn't really about him. I had trouble keeping Quinn's friends straight, but the book wasn't about them either. All the supporting characters (her family, her coworkers, her personal trainer/therapist) were fun and worked well enough.The odd thing about this book was that I kept thinking that a happy ending would consist of Quinn and Sage realizing that neither of them was ready to get married-- they both needed to grow up a little. You'd think that I'd hope that they'd do that growing up, because it seems like they could make a nice couple down the road, but that wasn't what I was thinking. ( )

Summary: Prudence Quinn O'Malley, the protagonist of Life After Yes, is whisked off to Paris by her boyfriend for a romantic weekend and a proposal. Back in her New York lawyer life with a sparkly diamond on her hand, she has doubts about her future, her fiancé and herself. Her father, recently killed in the September 11 attacks, is very present in her memory and she desperately wishes for his wisdom as she navigates that rocky period between the giving of one ring and the giving of a second.

Full disclosure: Aidan Donnelley Rowley is the author of the Ivy League Insecurities blog, which I read daily without fail. Thus the fact that I "know" her a fraction and have some measure of interaction with her, compared to all those anonymous authors out there, may colour my review slightly; although I have tried not to let it. I would definitely recommend the blog!

Quinn is of course ex-Ivy League, a lawyer, slim, beautiful, fashionable, with a good salary and an investment banker partner. So far, so standard. But Quinn is not a black-and-white protagonist, she definitely has her flaws: her drinking verges on the alcoholic, she's clearly not yet over her long-term boyfriend whom she dumped not all that long ago in order to take up with her now fiancé, and she fails quite a few moral tests during the course of the book. I savoured this very realistic character - not the perfect athletic superwoman so many authors choose, and not the ditzy airhead (see Bridget Jones, Confessions of a Shopaholic...). I wanted to believe better of her on several occasions, and it's not often you feel let down by the heroine. (Although Jane Eyre and I are going to have words one day about her running off into the wilderness without any money and leaving her belonging on the coach. Because that was all pretty stupid and not really worthy of Jane). Quinn's grief is crippling and real, and this (as many of the reviewers pointed out on the cover) gives depth and texture to what could otherwise be passed off as chick-lit fluff.

I loved Quinn's mother - wise, feisty, suffering her grief in private, but clearly a woman who knows how to have her fun, and knows her daughter very well. Sage didn't convince me - he seemed pretty dull. What did Quinn see in him? His mother is terrible, truly awful, but there is a beautiful moment towards the end which does eventually endear her to the reader. His father, like Quinn's, is absent, although for very different reasons, and I think Rowley didn't particularly want Sage's father to contend with the strength of the void left by Quinn's father's death. I struggled with most of the minor characters - Kayla was too extreme, Avery too pale - I didn't really understand why Quinn would be friends with them. Quinn's brother Michael was very interesting and I was sorry not to see more of him in the plot.

Rowley has chosen a particularly unusual period of life about which to write - I am far more used to "getting the guy" being the resolution of the story. We follow Quinn from near-commitment to actual commitment and it permits us to live her doubts, her fears - all those emotions that brides-to-be are supposed to suffer through, but silently.

All in all, a very enjoyable read, most commendable as a debut, and I hope to read plenty more of Rowley's writing (not just on her blog!) ( )

I started this book a little ambivalent. I thought it was going to be another Chick-lit/"Sex in the City" clone with New York girls perpetually dissatisfied with the mostly perfect lives.

Well, it was and it wasn't. Quinn/Prudence, our heroine is leads a somewhat "only in books" like. Great job, perfect boyfriend, great New York apartment, and no money worries what so ever. So, what's she got to complain about, right?

First off, she lost her beloved father in 9/11. A plot device which could have been schmaltzy or just plain gimmicky. But instead is handled with care and restraint and really does work in this story. Second, she's not a "Oh, I can't wait to get married" kind of girl and a little panicked about whether or not she's happy about it. Finally, she's not sure she's over her first love, she's not sure her fiance hasn't just cheated on her with her best friend, she's not sure she loves her career, and she's really not sure what she thinks of her future Mother-in-law.

Now, I'm not usually a big fan of books where the girl has everything but she's "just not happy" (that part should be said in a whiny voice). But, this book works. Rowley makes her main character some one to whom you can relate and all the secondary characters are believable and endearing. I ended up stating you way to late to finish which is always the sign of a good book.

I know this book just came out yet, I'm still looking forward to see what Rowley does next. ( )