Brandon is a thirty-year-old guy who goes through the motions through life. His fiancée, Clarissa, is a complete nag, and his job at an African-American broadcast station where he is the only white employee is as rewarding as a wet rag. So when Brandon gets an out-of-the-blue phone call from his Powerball-winning father, who barely calls twice a year, asking him to accompany him to Sweden, Brandon is looking for a way to escape.
Okay, I have to get a couple of things out of the way: one, I’m not really sure I liked the narrator, Brandon. Some of his comments were offensive, and stated in an offhanded manner that did not quite make it to funny. Also, the fact that he saw nothing wrong with cheating on his fiancée while on an unannounced vacation with some Swedish woman he just met and subsequently fell in love with (?) gave me severe pause. I get that you’re frustrated with your life and your fiancée, Brandon. But I still don’t like that he cheated in every sense of the word on Clarissa, no matter how annoying she was.
Two, I wasn’t quite convinced with Brandon’s Swedish love interest, Saga. He meets her by chance and then ends up falling head over heels for her… but even he admits several times throughout the book that he has no idea who she is. I guess you’ve got to believe in love at first sight in order for that relationship to seem realistic, and in order to overlook the complete lack of chemistry between these two. Plus, Saga was pretty one-dimensional in my opinion. Sure, she is really pretty and she and Brandon end up having great sex or whatever but there was zero character development, something that wasn’t resolved by book’s end.
While My Sweet Saga isn’t half as clever as it thinks it is, it certainly has its moments of hilarity and heartfelt sincerity, which makes for a fun read. One of the last chapters, in fact, made me burst out laughing at the visual picture it created (“On a side note, if ever looking for a way to beat the cold, try running for your life, buck ass naked, while being chased by a psychotically angry man four times your size. It’s like emotional flannel. You won’t feel a thing.” – Gold!). Everything from the toilet humor to the various, sometimes obscure pop culture references (Brandon tells his fiancée he had a “roommate” named Anton Chekov—I see what you did there, Mr. Sills) was on point, and even gave me a chuckle or two. Overall, Mr. Sills is no Tucker Max, but I appreciated the effort. If you’re looking for a quick, lighthearted read, this one’s for you.