I wanted to love this book. I expected to love it. Because of the author’s father.
After my husband’s death in 2012, Max Lucado’s inspirational writing lifted me nearly every morning and evening in the devotionals I devoured, searching for answers.
So it is with some embarrassment that I admit I didn’t finish English Lessons: The Crooked Little Grace-Filled Path of Growing Up.
In fact, I ended up just skimming the last half of the book, enough to see that while she does get into some soul-searching regarding her faith, the author’s writing didn’t have the depth that her father’s does. I should admit I’d chosen this book from BloggingforBooks because of her father, and realized after I began it, I have no real interest in reading about a 22-year-old preacher’s daughter attending graduate school in Oxford. While the book was well-written (attributed to the Masters in English, no doubt), it is missing the down-to-earth “realness” of her father’s books. Perhaps that will come with age and experience.
I particularly disliked the section of the book where she relates, in script form, conversations she had with a young man. Mine was an uncorrected proof, so I don’t know if that changed with the final copy.