Review of All This Time by Mikki Daughtry and Rachael Lippincott
When I first stumbled upon All This Time, I was instantly drawn to its premise. Grief, healing, and the complexities of young love are themes that often resonate deeply with readers, and with authors Mikki Daughtry and Rachael Lippincott at the helm, I was eager to see how they would navigate these heavy emotions. They captivated me with their previous work, and I couldn’t wait to see what they crafted this time around. Little did I know that my reading journey would take some unexpected turns.
The story follows Kyle, a young man grappling with the aftermath of loss. From the very beginning, Daughtry and Lippincott shine in their portrayal of grief. The early chapters effortlessly capture that raw, visceral feeling of longing and confusion. Kyle’s encounter with Marley adds a nuanced layer to his healing process, offering what feels like a tether to his past while also pushing him toward acceptance. I found myself reflecting on my own experiences with loss, grateful for the authors’ ability to evoke such genuine emotion.
However, as the narrative progressed, I couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease. The introduction of Marley had me questioning her reality—was she truly there, or was she a figment of Kyle’s imagination as he navigated his grief? While I appreciated the potential depth of this exploration, the story veered into territory that felt contrived and over-the-top. Just when I thought I had a handle on where things were heading, the plot escalated to a level that left me scratching my head in disbelief.
The writing style was engaging and flowed smoothly, making it easy to get lost in the world Daughtry and Lippincott created. However, the pacing began to falter as the plot became increasingly convoluted. The notion that Kyle was in a coma the entire time and that Marley was reading their story to him just took me out of the experience. Not to mention, the idea of Marley jumping in front of a car, only to face the bizarre circumstances that followed, felt more like a soap opera twist than a poignant exploration of grief. It felt like a missed opportunity to further delve into the complexities of loss and love.
There were moments, like Kyle’s growth and Marley providing companionship, that truly resonated with me. Yet, when Marley’s final act leads to her death and subsequent choice to “come back to life” in a rather whimsical manner, it undermined much of the emotional weight the authors had built. The climax felt flippant—a stark contrast to the well-crafted exploration of grief we had seen earlier.
In the end, while I had high hopes for All This Time, I found myself disappointed by the narrative choices that overshadowed the book’s earlier promise. Nevertheless, I gave it an extra star for the emotional moments that initially gripped me. If you’re in search of a light read with some heartfelt themes, this book may still pique your interest, but I would caution those looking for a serious exploration of grief to approach with tempered expectations.
Ultimately, Daughtry and Lippincott’s writing style and ability to conjure emotional resonance are strengths, but All This Time feels like a missed opportunity. If you’re curious enough to give it a go, you might find some redeeming qualities amidst the chaos.