Katie Heaney

Rose Reed is very good at her job in public relations, but she's still surprised when an impromptu client meeting results in her becoming the personal publicist for Archie Fox, the sexy young British pop star (definitely not Harry Styles *wink wink*). Mostly it involves elaborate arrangements for spontaneous-looking dates with an up-and-coming songstress, but the job will also entail spending a lot of time in close quarters with one of the world's most famous heartthrobs. What could go show more wrong?

This book is so cheesy but so fun. The characters are great and the writing is absorbing and very funny. Two times (in the two days it took me to read the book) I missed my bus stop because I was too into reading. Rose is a well-rounded and relatable main character - I especially appreciated that she is super into one nerdy thing (The X-Files) but that doesn't mean she's super into every other thing that could be considered nerdy (the way it works in real life!). Rose and Archie's budding relationship is way too convenient to be realistic, of course, but that's part of the charm. My cynical side was sated by reading about the PR machine and fake celebrity relationships, and the logistics of navigating around a city as an international celebrity. The authors did a little work to separate this "not Harry Styles" from the real one, but not a lot. A few mentions of One Direction made it through editing, to my amusement. Very cute and I highly recommend it if you're into this sort of book, or if you're a fan of Harry Styles of course. show less

Why is Rose trying to find a boyfriend on Tindr? The app specifically designed for casual hook-ups? Who does that? No, seriously. How out of touch are the authors of Public Relations that they thought this would be a believable choice?

This book is bad in a variety of ways. The two protagonists are very gently awful in a Twilight way. Archie is an insufferable idiot who, despite Rose's promise that he oozes charm, manages to be utterly charmless and somewhat creepy. Rose is a narcissist who show more is incredibly lucky to have such an amazing friend like Harper. Rose's ability to completely ignore everyone else and zero in on her problems is incredible. And her penchant for dissolving into hysterics over a fairly milquetoast Tindr message is obnoxious in the extreme. I seriously don't know why Harper puts up with her.

But what I find most insidious about Public Relations is the concept this book peddles that celebrities aren't accountable to normal relationship stakes. Rose's entire infatuation with Archie begins and ends with him being a hot celebrity. Archie treats her like crap. He ghosts her for a week at a time, ignoring her texts and phone calls, and then shows up all romantic-like and is immediately accepted back. Rose tells Harper several times that she has no idea what her relationship status is with Archie, but she can never ask because that would be presumptuous. Somehow. Public Relations operates on the idea that celebrities are better than us plebeians because they are celebrities, and therefore if they show us the slightest hint of attention we should fall all over ourselves for having been graced as such. Archie is intentionally opaque, dodges basic questions, and constantly maintains sole control over the relationship--but hey, he wrote a song for Rose so isn't he the greatest?

This is basically the American version of the whole infatuation with European royalty. Like royalty, celebrities in these novels can get away with anything because the heroine should count herself lucky to even be noticed. It's a toxic, old-fashioned concept and it pushes all my buttons.

Bad book. Skip. show less

I have never read an entire book so quickly, loved it so much immediately, felt so connected, or put it on my Favorites list before finishing it. Until now. I started out, one night, intending to read just one chapter but ended up reading four, all the while with a big smile on my face. There are vast differences between us (I'm old enough to be her mom, for one), but I resonated so much with what was presented here, that I felt almost like the author was a "parallel universe" me. The show more writing is warm, personable, open and honest in a way I've never come across before. Intelligent, complex, but easily readable wording and structure, the flow of the memoir was captivating, and an occasional statement was so beautiful in its simplicity, clarity, and profoundness that I teared up ("How tender toward me, and how brutal on my behalf, were my friends when a man let me down ... But now I have no men to speak of" [p. 155]). I didn't want to stop reading. My only complaint, aside from wanting more pages/chapters, is that Chapter 14 seemed out of place with an abrupt change in tone and topic. I intend to read Ms. Heaney's previous works and look forward to future ones. What a talented writer!

[I received a free copy via Early Reviewers in exchange for my honest review] show less

Insightful and often funny, Heaney's memoir is the still-unfolding story of her realizing her true sexuality, and grappling with what that means for her identity. (Since she's previously written a memoir about her travails as a single woman having a series of almost-dates with men, this question has some added weight.) Heaney is an engaging narrator, despite -- or perhaps because of -- not glossing over any of her foibles or anxieties. At one point, she worries about being turned away from a show more lesbian bar for being "not gay enough"; as someone who also came out relatively late, I totally get it! show less