Florence, a young aspiring author in her mid-twenties, is one of these. She is a desperate social-climber with a wavering moral compass who wants to fit in to the upper-class elite of the New York literary scene, but no matter what she does, she looks like a hapless poseur. All of that changes when she's offered the opportunity to work with the real Maud Dixon as an assistant, which results in life lessons, writing lessons, and a spur of the moment trip to Morocco for book research.
Obviously, the real Maud Dixon is nothing like what Florence expected. But then-- Florence isn't exactly what she expected, either.
For about 50% of this book I was in love with it... and then it sort of fell apart, pacing-wise and character-wise. Let's just say there were some questionable decisions towards the end that had me rolling my eyes a little. I liked the Morocco portions a lot and I love a good mystery about writers who act crazy, but I just felt that things got a little too unbelievable and required too much suspension of disbelief. Was this book bad? No. I did enjoy it. It just didn't wow me like I wanted it to.
Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review!
3 out of 5 stars