A review by pikasqueaks
Bittersweet by Sarah Ockler
4.0
I'm going to be as forthcoming as possible and say that the moment I heard this book was set in Western New York, I had to get my hands on it. There is no place like home, and that's what Buffalo is for me. I didn't grow up there, I just went to school there. But five years was all it took for Western New York to be everything to me. Hudson is right when she says:
But there’s something about Watonka, they say. Something that pulls us back, the electromagnet that holds all the metal in place. It’s the food, they say, or the chicken wings or the sports teams or the people or the way the air over the Skyway smells like Cheerios on account of the old General Mills Plant.
Sarah Ockler presents WNY (Watonka, really) perfectly. Out of anything with this story, that was the most important part for me. After reading Fixing Delilah, and catching the reference to Forest Lawn Cemetary (the cemetery that was across the street from my college!), I was pumped for what would come next. Add to the mix that I was also known by my friends at college as Cupcake Girl, how could this possible go wrong?
Hudson hides in the back prep area of her mom's restaurant, baking cupcakes. She's hiding from all kinds of things, and the sad thing is that even in the end, she doesn't stop hiding. Her goals are drowned by the people around her, and she admits defeat, returning to the back room to bake cupcakes for the next forever.
The thing that really sucks? That her "supportive" best friend and mother cow her into staying. Her "best friend" gets angry, jealous, bitter, and dismissive the second anything good happens for Hudson. I didn't understand any of their fights, or why Hudson even felt bad for what she was doing. She packed the guilt on herself over and over, when she didn't have any reason to that I could see.
Even her mother gets in on it. Her mother has the idea that in order for her little diner (her dream) to be successful, it needs to suck the life out of everyone around them. She doesn't have much respect for her daughter's growing ambitions, and she's so obsessed with her diner and making it work that she doesn't really bother to find out what Hudson's future plans even are. This might be a case of the Bad Parent in YA trope, but if anything, the absent-and-new-family father fits that bill with more flair.
I'm going to point out here that this is an exceptionally good depiction of life in WNY, where the only people who seem to want to stay there are people who aren't from there. The people who want out are the ones who've been there forever. There's something magnetic about the city of Buffalo, but it's repellent at the same time.
The "love triangle" between Will, Hudson, and Josh didn't make much sense to me. We're made to like Josh immediately. It's even clear that Hudson likes him. But then... out of nowhere, Will takes center stage. He's the big hockey jock, and it's a mystery why Hudson sees anything in him. There's no chemistry there, just a whiny adolescent boy with secrets and too much testosterone. That entire sub-plot left me confused.
Why is it that in any book related to sports, the characters have an irritating need to always call each other by last names? It's not even on occasion, it's almost any time they talk to each other. Maybe this is a general sports phenomenon that goes over my head, but every few lines, "Weakly witty line, Avery!" "Equally weak retort, Blackthorn!"
...and this is really stupid, but Hudson's name stuck out like crazy in the sea of Dani, Kara, Josh, Will. I kept forgetting if Avery or Hudson was her first name.
On the character level, Sarah Ockler nails it every time. Hudson is a teenage girl, in the best sense. She's indecisive, her self esteem is wobbly, and she's prone to embarrassment. Sometimes, though, you don't really know what's going on with her. Will is dumped into her lap, but at a few points, she says she's falling for Josh. It takes her a while to sort that out, and it's realistic. Sarah Ockler makes every second we're with Hudson enjoyable.
I don't know jack about figure skating and hate hockey. But somehow, even hockey came across more interesting through Ockler's details. Figure skating especially, though, where I could feel the excitement and dedication from Hudson. This is someone who cares about figure skating.
The pressure from all sides for Hudson to be what everyone else wanted her to be was frustrating to get through. But that reminder of the 190, of the Buffalo News, of everything Western New York, kept this book in my hands.
But there’s something about Watonka, they say. Something that pulls us back, the electromagnet that holds all the metal in place. It’s the food, they say, or the chicken wings or the sports teams or the people or the way the air over the Skyway smells like Cheerios on account of the old General Mills Plant.
Sarah Ockler presents WNY (Watonka, really) perfectly. Out of anything with this story, that was the most important part for me. After reading Fixing Delilah, and catching the reference to Forest Lawn Cemetary (the cemetery that was across the street from my college!), I was pumped for what would come next. Add to the mix that I was also known by my friends at college as Cupcake Girl, how could this possible go wrong?
Hudson hides in the back prep area of her mom's restaurant, baking cupcakes. She's hiding from all kinds of things, and the sad thing is that even in the end, she doesn't stop hiding. Her goals are drowned by the people around her, and she admits defeat, returning to the back room to bake cupcakes for the next forever.
The thing that really sucks? That her "supportive" best friend and mother cow her into staying. Her "best friend" gets angry, jealous, bitter, and dismissive the second anything good happens for Hudson. I didn't understand any of their fights, or why Hudson even felt bad for what she was doing. She packed the guilt on herself over and over, when she didn't have any reason to that I could see.
Even her mother gets in on it. Her mother has the idea that in order for her little diner (her dream) to be successful, it needs to suck the life out of everyone around them. She doesn't have much respect for her daughter's growing ambitions, and she's so obsessed with her diner and making it work that she doesn't really bother to find out what Hudson's future plans even are. This might be a case of the Bad Parent in YA trope, but if anything, the absent-and-new-family father fits that bill with more flair.
I'm going to point out here that this is an exceptionally good depiction of life in WNY, where the only people who seem to want to stay there are people who aren't from there. The people who want out are the ones who've been there forever. There's something magnetic about the city of Buffalo, but it's repellent at the same time.
The "love triangle" between Will, Hudson, and Josh didn't make much sense to me. We're made to like Josh immediately. It's even clear that Hudson likes him. But then... out of nowhere, Will takes center stage. He's the big hockey jock, and it's a mystery why Hudson sees anything in him. There's no chemistry there, just a whiny adolescent boy with secrets and too much testosterone. That entire sub-plot left me confused.
Why is it that in any book related to sports, the characters have an irritating need to always call each other by last names? It's not even on occasion, it's almost any time they talk to each other. Maybe this is a general sports phenomenon that goes over my head, but every few lines, "Weakly witty line, Avery!" "Equally weak retort, Blackthorn!"
...and this is really stupid, but Hudson's name stuck out like crazy in the sea of Dani, Kara, Josh, Will. I kept forgetting if Avery or Hudson was her first name.
On the character level, Sarah Ockler nails it every time. Hudson is a teenage girl, in the best sense. She's indecisive, her self esteem is wobbly, and she's prone to embarrassment. Sometimes, though, you don't really know what's going on with her. Will is dumped into her lap, but at a few points, she says she's falling for Josh. It takes her a while to sort that out, and it's realistic. Sarah Ockler makes every second we're with Hudson enjoyable.
I don't know jack about figure skating and hate hockey. But somehow, even hockey came across more interesting through Ockler's details. Figure skating especially, though, where I could feel the excitement and dedication from Hudson. This is someone who cares about figure skating.
The pressure from all sides for Hudson to be what everyone else wanted her to be was frustrating to get through. But that reminder of the 190, of the Buffalo News, of everything Western New York, kept this book in my hands.