The premise of American Fantasy is genuinely fun. A recently divorced woman finds herself alone on a cruise ship full of fans of 90s boy band Boy Talk, and the band members themselves. Think New Kids on the Block. I was sold.
The execution, though, fell really flat for me. The book is told from multiple perspectives, including Annie the divorcée, a band member named Keith, and a cruise staff member whose name I’ve already forgotten, which tells you something. I didn’t feel like I knew or cared any more about any of them by the end than I did at the beginning.
Annie spends so much energy making clear she’s not sad and lame like the other women on the cruise that she becomes tedious to spend time with. Her roommate was the most interesting character by far, and we barely got any time with her.
Stuff almost happens. Straub almost makes plot choices, and then seems to chicken out.
A couple of friends whose taste often aligns with mine liked this one fine, so your mileage may vary. And if you’re not already a cruise person but have ever had even a flicker of curiosity about whether you’re missing out, this book will take cure you of that.
