Synopsis from Goodreads.
Meet Josephine Foster, or Zo Jo as she’s called in the biz. The best pint-sized photographer of them all, Jo doesn’t mind doing what it takes to get that perfect shot, until she’s sent on an undercover assignment to shoot Ned Hartnett—teen superstar and the only celebrity who’s ever been kind to her—at an exclusive rehabilitation retreat in Boston. The money will be enough to pay for Jo’s dream: real photography classes, and maybe even quitting her paparazzi gig for good. Everyone wants to know what Ned’s in for. But Jo certainly doesn’t know what she’s in for: falling in love with Ned was never supposed to be part of her assignment.
This book as a film: A Discussion.
Or Jo gets hypothetical and reveals far too much about herself.
Mr Harnett, the love interest of this book, would be played by Justin Beiber or one of the lads from One Direction/The Wanted. Their face would be plastered all over the world and they would be trending on Twitter. What? I know, I’m being stupid. One Direction trending on Twitter? Gettouttatown! I would vow never to leave the house/put the TV on/open my eyes until everyone had calmed down and the dust of a thousand pre-teen girls had settled. Um… ok that analogy didn’t quite work but you get the gist.
Mr Hartnett would be played by Zac Efron. His face would be plastered on the buses and billboards at the train station and I would sneakily look at him when I thought no one was looking and make a mental note to text my best friend and demand that she came with me to see it.
It could go either way.
This book could’ve done the same. This book had the danger of being so ridiculous and cringey and omgursoannoying (see: One Direction) that I would fling it out of the window and vow never to read a book again. That’s right. I would never read a book ever again. If anything could make that happen, the existence of One Direction fanfic would be it.
Or it could be sweet, funny and I would love it in a way similar to the way that you love something that you can’t explain because it’s so different to what you normally love and, with everything considered, you should probably hate it (see: Zac Efron, WHO before everyone gets all giddy is actually nearly two years older than me).
Luckily, this book was the latter. Honestly, I wouldn’t buy it on DVD but every time it was shown on TV on a Sunday afternoon I’d probably watch it and I’d enjoy every minute of it.
I’ve been on a bit of an intense-stint recently so it was good to just read something that was light, cute and fun. I know I’ve said ‘fun’ about a million times but you can really tell that Ms Rushby had lots of it when she wrote this book. Sure this book isn’t going to change your life and it’s not going to challenge you and shock you to your core and yeah, it was pretty easy to guess what was going to happen but I didn’t care. Zo-Jo was a cute heroine, the kissing stuff was lovely and I didn’t find the jokes cringey in the slightest.
Also, I found it hilarious that the main bloke was named Hartnett because it brought back vivid memories of when I was about fifteen and I was obsessed with Josh Hartnett. I know, isn’t that the weirdest crush ever? I was so obsessed with him that wrote a Christmas poem/song about him… I think that is the epitome of Crazy Girl With Crush, right? I’m thinking it was because I am a huge fan The Virgin Suicides, both the book and the film where he plays Trip Fontaine with a dodgy bob. If that’s not the reason, god knows what is.
Anyway, that’s all in the past now and now I have moved on and I mean, I don’t even think about Josh Hartnett anymore…. Unless I have one of my “I’m going to stay in my pjs and watch The Faculty and eat Frosties out of the box” days.
Which, um, never happens.
What was I even saying? Ahh, book review, that’s it.
I don’t know why I liked this book; especially when I’ve strongly disliked books that are the same style. Maybe it just caught me at a good time? Maybe it’s because Ms Rushby’s writing was fresh and funny? Maybe it’s because this book didn’t try and be something it wasn’t? Or maybe it’s because I’m biased that the heroine almost has the same name as me? Or maybe I just have a weakness for books where the hapless heroine meets a Hollywood movie star and shenanigans and kissing ensue.
It’s probably that.
I’ve got a lot of time for shenanigans and kissing.
I try not to call books ‘fluff’ because I find it kind of patronising and dismissive. I always feel you can enjoy a book you wouldn’t normally enjoy without it being classed as ‘fluff’. Except that this book was fluff.
Not the kind that seems to attach itself to black clothing but the edible marshmallowy stuff in a tub that you get from Selfridges.
Sure, if you ate a whole jar of it you would be sick and probably go blind and slightly rabid but a sneaky
table teaspoon full when no one’s watching every now and again?
I received this book from the author.