This review originally appeared at www.readinasinglesitting.com.

Before reading The Lucky One, my knowledge of the books of Nicholas Sparks was limited to what I knew of the many film adaptations of his work. I knew to expect passionate romances against all odds, characters split apart by dark secrets, gasping professions of love followed by some sort of lengthy embrace (usually involving rain or someone being lifted in the air and spun around), progressive illnesses, devoted animals, and whichever teen actor is currently Hollywood’s most beloved. I also knew to read with a box of tissues at hand.

And indeed, this novel follows the pattern I expected, although fortunately without a Miley Cirus in sight, and rather reminds me of Diane Chamberlain’s work.

Logan Thibault has returned from Iraq uninjured and unscathed, which is more than can be said for those who worked alongside him. Logan is without a doubt, a lucky guy. But Logan’s luck seems to be tied to a photograph of a young woman found during one of his patrols: a photograph clearly dropped by someone else in his platoon. Someone who hasn’t come forward to claim the picture. And so, upon arriving back in the States, Logan sets out on a pilgrimage to find the mysterious girl in the picture–both to thank her for her part in keeping him safe, and to learn more about the fallen soldier who was the original owner of the picture.
Elizabeth “Beth” Clayton is a young divorcee who splits her time between working as a primary school teacher, helping her elderly but sprightly mother run a dog training kennel, and looking after her son Ben. Beth has almost everything she’s always hoped for, except, of course, an enduring romantic relationship. But after a series of attempts at dating that have all ended in disaster, Beth has resigned herself to a life of singledom. Until, of course, the mysterious Thibault arrives on the scene, capturing the hearts of Beth and her son–and even Beth’s mother.
But Beth’s ex-husband, the creepy Keith Clayton (who reminds me of the terrifying Lou Ford from The Killer Inside Me) has other ideas about Beth getting involved in a romantic relationship. Over the years he’s made his thoughts about this amply to clear to Beth’s potential suitors, but Logan’s persistence means that Keith’s usual scare tactics might not be enough…
The Lucky One is ripe for film adaptation, and indeed is presently showing at the cinemas, but I can’t help but feel that it’s a book that’s almost suited better to the big screen than it is to print format. It begins slowly, setting up the series of seemingly unconnected characters and gradually building the links between them, before building to a dramatic life-or-death conclusion that makes for the perfect Hollywood climax–and why, yes, there’s rain involved. (I can picture the fade-out, followed by the truth-is-revealed happily-ever-after epilogue as I write this.) On the page, however, the ending feels rushed: what would take a good ten minutes or so in a film is covered in a mere few pages, and the summary-style epilogue that follows doesn’t help matters.

Although I did enjoy this one, I can’t help but feel that it seems a little lacklustre: the plot is fairly slight, and relies on the multiple point-of-view approach to pad it out. The two mysteries that are to be inevitably uncovered by the end of the book–the fact that Logan has carried a photo of Beth for years, and that of Keith’s nasty ways–pack less of a punch than the narrative requires, and Beth’s reaction to both is necessarily little more than a cursory “how could you?”. Given the set-up in the initial chapters, it just feels as though there should be something more here.

I found the progression of the relationship between Beth and Logan in this one a little fast, as well: they’re professing their love for each other within a few days of meeting, yet there’s not much here that speaks of anything akin to passionate romance. Their relationship feels more safe and convenient than anything, rather than the all-encompassing love and obsession that it seems that we’re meant to be witnessing. Perhaps it’s this that detracted from the tension of the “black moment” between the two.

It’s a paint-by-numbers novel, sure, but in all, it’s is a solid read, and certainly lends itself to a bit of afternoon-page turning on a rainy day (although I’d avoid reading it in a tree-house if I were you). It’s not enough to evoke the famed Sparks-inspired tears, but there’s enough here that I’d be interested to peruse Sparks’s substantial back list.