Lorelei Mathias

Fieldnotes:
1 Bridget Jones-esque Editorial Assistant
1 Mystery Author Found on the Slush Pile
1 Commitmentphobic Cad
1 Charmingly Earnest Jack of All Trades
Several Very Bad Romantic Decisions
Way Too Many Meals at Pizza Express

The Short Version: Lost for Words was cute and fun to read, though not terribly memorable. I like novels/movies set at publishing houses for a little wish fulfilment. On the whole, though, the love triangle was pretty obvious, and I would have liked a bit more funny...

The Long Version:
Slave to the slushpile Daisy Allen life seems to be a bit off-track. Sure, she has a job as editorial assistant at a small publishing house, but writing constant rejection letters (no matter how unpublishable the manuscript) weighs on her sweet nature. And, of course, she hasn't yet found the Harry Potter-style bestseller on the slushpile that will launch her career. Her sometimes boyfriend(?), more often publishing industry contact (and thwarted author) Miles refuses to so much as commit to timing on a next date, much less contemplate the idea of an official "boyfriend" title. And Daisy spends more of her considerable editorial talent dissecting his emails and text messages rather than focusing on her job.

Until one day, Daisy gets an actually useful intern Elliot, who despite holding down more odd jobs than any one person should be able to sanely manage (including as a guide at a Bodyworlds style exhibit (ew)), AND she comes across something special in the slush pile - a romance story about missed connections that begins to sound oddly familiar.

This is a fun, light-hearted read with more than a few shades of Bridget Jones' Diary about it (though fewer and less hilarious adventures). Daisy is sweet and quite relatable, though a bit oblivious to things going on directly under her nose. I mean, (not really a spoiler because obvious, but for sensitive souls: OF COURSE, the mystery author is the adorable Elliot who has a thing for you and not your pompous dorkwad hook-up buddy Miles.

After a few weeks, though, all I really remember is an INCREDIBLY PRETENTIOUS dickMoleskine-measuring contest, a charming story about Spanish flamenco dancer postcards and the memory of FAR too many meals on-page in Pizza Express...… (meer)