Reviewer: Kate
I received a copy of There’s More to Life than Cupcakes by Poppy Dolan in exchange for an honest review.
Synopsis:
Ellie Redford has a husband, a job and a home. According to the rest of the world, it’s baby o’clock already. Shame life doesn’t come with a recipe…
Ellie knows that starting a family with lovely husband Pete would be an amazing adventure. Pete would make a brilliant dad and she’d have an excuse to eat shed loads of Cherry Bakewell. But Ellie’s bestie would rather she was up at 3 a.m. with a bottle of Malibu, not formula. And with redundancies looming, Ellie’s boss isn’t exactly going to throw her a shower if she disappears for a year, with pay.
While Ellie juggles her feelings (and everyone else’s) as competently as a drunken clown, she finds herself signing up for a baking class, alongside the young, free and sizzling hot Joe. As they work buns and shape tarts, is there more to their friendship than a shared appreciation of Paul Hollywood?
Ellie’s soufflés may be rising, but her personal life is one big soggy mess. If she doesn’t make a decision soon, she may just lose everything that matters to her. Maybe it’s time to take off the pinny and face up to the truth: there’s more to life than cupcakes…
Review:
It seems apropos that Poppy Dolan would write about a foodie who works at a food magazine. Poppy’s name is enough to have me salivating over the thought of my favorite muffins. (So cruel; I’m off carbs. Ugh!) The food theme pops up in witty ways throughout the novel. But the food wasn’t the first thing I noticed.
My first impression of There’s More to Life than Cupcakes was “oh boy, is this long.” I thought it was the odd sense of length given by the lack of physical pages. (I still can’t quite get used to reading on my Kindle; increasing percentages just aren’t the same as feeling the pages turn.) At 295 pages, it’s certainly not the longest romantic comedy; it just felt that way. For this reader, there was simply a tediousness to the narrative—not to Ellie’s dilemma, that is totally valid. There was something in the storytelling that took away from the plight of this modern woman instead of shedding light on it. Perhaps I didn’t understand some of the Briticisms and missed the joke—that’s definitely possible. But it seems like more than a few lost punch lines. There’s simply so much going on in this book and I’m not so sure that all of it is necessary. I can’t go into detail without spoilers, so I’ll just say that Ellie has many relationships and I’m not entirely sure that they all help move the plot along or help Ellie figure out anything about herself or her dilemma. And Ellie’s dilemma is worthy of focus.
To have a baby or not to have a baby? That is the question.
As a woman in her early 30s in the year 2013, I understand this question. Ellie happens to be married in this story, but even unwed women of our age are standing at the same precipice. We all know that our eggs do expire and that expiration date is not printed on our bums. The 30s is the uncertain danger zone. Are my eggs turning to dust? It’s a valid thought. One that is scary and without a definite answer, even with extensive, expensive testing. All of Ellie’s antics in dealing with the scary, overwhelming, life-changing-regardless-of-what-you-do problem are very familiar. At my age, everyone wants to know either “So when are you getting married?” or “When are you gonna pop out some grandbabies?” Can I just figure out who I am first! I hear you, Ellie.
While I didn’t find this book quick reading, I do find it interesting. There are some gem moments here that made it worth the read (e.g. the reason for the title—stunner!). I also love the cultural references (that I got) that made me realize I am now in that 30-something group I used to think was old—it really isn’t; just yesterday I was in high school. And that’s part of the point. This book is a great reminder that, in the words of the immortal philosopher Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
3 ½ Stars
