"I couldn't believe it. Not until I was standing there along with the rest of the town in the cemetery did it really hit me. She was dead."

These are the first few lines in The Stillburrow Crush. When I read them, I thought that somehow I had the book mistaken, that the right cover had been randomly put over the wrong content. Come to think of it, that was a silly reaction on my part. But it summarizes pretty well the feeling this book left me with.

I had read the description, I had read a few reviews, and I thought "hey! this is light-hearted chick-lit!". I wasn't execting all the half-hearted drama mixed with all the half-hearted love story, resulting in a half-hearted and absolutely forgettable cocktail. I read it a week ago, and I don't even remember the names of the main couple.

And it wasn't bad. It just wasn't good, either. A little drama and a kind of cute love story, set in a town in the deepest middle of Nowhere, America. (Which I can never relate to, by the way, so I don't understand why I keep getting in the path of these books, even when I seriously try to avoid them.)

So it was OK. It just wasn't any better than OK.