Yael Hedaya

I love her books; love her writing; love the leisurely pace that develops the characters. The structure, where each chapter was devoted to a different character, recurring throughout the book, worked beautifully to give us a long-term view of each character. By the end I felt part of their lives.

The only character for whom this didn't work so well was Jane, Roni's American mother, who was only brought in at the end - but once she arrived, the way in which the story of Roni's birth was show more intertwined with her recovery was masterful. show less

All three of these stories show off Hedaya's uncanny ability to describe true human feelings, no matter how sweet or nasty or evil they may be. There are no picture-perfect love-stories here - there are only human emotion rubbing up against reality. On top of that, she manages the most interesting story-angles; the dog in "Housebroken" mirroring the human relationship, the daughter's of "The Happiness Game" holding on to her reluctant lover as her parents decide to break up, and finally, the show more two women in "Matti," whose love for the main character merges them into, almost, one and the same. It's not always pretty or comforting, but it is always true. show less

All the stuff that is usually left out of a "regular" love story can be found in this - the real stuff. The smells, the flaws, the bickering, the uncertainty - all the things that make a real-life love story real. Hedaya has managed to take three characters who are all somewhat unlikable and somehow merge them into a likeable whole - or if not likeable, at least relatable. The characters in this book could be your neighbors, your relatives, your friends, or whoever else just walks down the show more street - their pain is real, as is their anger, their lust, and their love. And, as with real people, they are at times absolutely hilarious and at others absolutely heart-breaking! show less

Accidents, about managing grief and love at the same time, is an incredibly sad book. It's not just the subject matter - it's the unrelenting detail. There's no relief in the form of cataclysmic plot events, no opportunity to cry and get it over with. Instead, each uninspiring cafe meal, unflattering sweatshirt and anxiety attack grind slowly toward the end of the book.

I did wish the book was over with several times in the middle, but only because it was shedding an umbrella of gloom around show more my week, not because it was badly written. On the contrary, a lesser writer couldn't have summoned such a powerful feeling of real grief; not the cathartic novel kind, but the real everyday dull pain. show less