Size 12 Is Not Fat

Heather is a former teen pop star, but things went bad and she had to find a real job. She is now 28 and working at a dorm – oops, residence hall - at New York College. When a girl turns up dead at the bottom of the elevator shaft in the dorm, the police rule it an accident from elevator surfing. Heather thinks otherwise and sets out to find out what really happened to that girl.

I really liked this. It's a chick-lit/cozy mystery mix. I felt like I could identify with Heather (not the former teen pop star part!), and I really liked her. If I didn't have other books I'd already planned to read right now, I'd love to just dive into Size 14 is Not Fat, Either. Found the author's note at the end very interesting – to see how much was show more taken from her own life. It's written in a simple writing style, but it's chick lit. It was a fast, really fun read for me! show less

Summary: Heather Wells's life certainly seems to be in a downward spiral. Heather is a former teen pop star who was dropped from her label for demanding to sing her own stars, abandoned by her mother (who ran off to Argentina with Heather's manager... and money), and dumped by her boy-band singer fiancée. In order to make a living, Heather's gotten a job as the assistant manager of a freshman dorm of New York College. It's a job she's good at, and one that she enjoys... until freshman women start turning up dead in the bottom of the dorm elevator shaft. The police rule the deaths accidents, but Heather's convinced they're not... but how can she possibly hope to prove it?

Review: I am of two minds about this book, and it is making it show more hard to come to a single conclusion, or even a single star rating. Let's start with the good mind, and save the annoyed, angry, snarly mind for later, shall we?

As a fluffy murder mystery, this book was great. I was pulled into the story right away, stayed good and hooked throughout, staying up well past my bedtime to race through to the end. I totally fell for some of the red herrings, and there were enough clues given out that I could eventually put together who the real bad guy was only a page or two before the main character did. Those are all hallmarks of a good, compelling mystery. There's also a sizeable dollop of romance stirred into the mix, and Cabot can certainly write an appealing leading man (see: Jesse from the Mediator series... although Cooper's almost as good).

The tone of the book is a little confusing - it reads like a young adult novel, but the narrator is 28, which is old for your typical YA heroine - but if it's not YA, then it's pretty juvenile chick lit. The writing is full of little tics that I think are supposed to be cute but come off as annoying. Heather correcting herself every single time she mentions her dorm "(Um, I mean residence hall)" gets old after chapter one, and there are several similar repeated motifs that are no less obnoxious. But ignoring those, the writing's easy and light, accentuating the fun fluffiness of the book.

But despite how fun and fluffy and compelling I found the murder mystery, this book has a problem. A big problem. In fact, a size 12 problem.

So. The title, Size 12 is Not Fat, is a statement of opinion. An opinion which, according to her author's note at the end, Ms. Cabot seems to share. Heather is certainly frequently telling other characters (and the reader) that size 12 is not fat, it is in fact the size of the average American woman, that it's possible to be a size 12 and still be perfectly healthy. All of which a) is true, and b) seems to promote a sane, sensible, anti-sizeist message of body acceptance. That's the message the book seems to want to put out.

Unfortunately, that's not the message the book actually puts out. Heather cannot go for three pages without mentioning HoHos or Dove Bars, the exercise routine she is so proud of consists of walking between bakeries, and she prefers baths to showers because she is "too lazy to stand up that long." (Yes, that's an actual quote. No, I'm not kidding. I wish I were.) Instead of being happy with herself the way she is, Heather's constantly acting defensive about her size, and bitchy towards those smaller than she is. And instead of giving us a character who is actually healthy and still a size 12, Cabot seems to be implying that if Heather got off of her lazy ass and knocked it off with the Doritos, she wouldn't be a size 12 anymore. To me, it read as if Cabot wanted to pay lip-service to the self-acceptance message embodied in her title, but secretly believes that size 12... is kind of fat (read: bad). Which: I call shenanigans. I call shenanigans on that bullshit so hard. It's angry-making, especially since it's disguised in a package that promises acceptance and positivity.

So, there's my dilemna. Do I give it a high rating because of the compelling murder mystery, or do I give it a low rating because of the rage-inducing hypocrisy? I suppose I split the difference: 3.5 out of 5 stars.

Recommendation: Gah, I don't know. I can't really call it an "enjoyable" read when it made my blood boil in parts, but if you could turn on a mental filter so that all you got was the mystery and romance parts, then it's quite good. You're on your own for this one, dependent on how strongly this sort of thing pushes your buttons. show less

You've got yourself a washed up pop princess, Heather Wells, who isn't full of herself, gets a down to earth job in a residence hall, and becomes something of an amateur sleuth when the girls in her residence hall start dying by elevator surfing. Heather knows girls don't elevator surf, though, so they must have been murdered. But by who? Exactly the kind of mystery I like. It keeps to you guess, but isn't too complicated to follow along.The characters were lovable (except for the murderer, obviously), the setting was pretty awesome, and the plot thickened at just the right points. The climax of the book was my favorite part. Cabot didn't just find a way to end her mystery novel like so many other chick-lit authors do. There were twists show more and turns and spanned a few chapters, not a few pages. It made finishing the book fast and enjoyable.It's a few years old, but if you haven't gotten around to this book yet, I definitely suggest reading this one. show less

Meg does it again! She has this uncanny ability to make you want to be best friends with every main character she creates. This was a fantastic read full of mystery, suspense and a whole lot of humor. I loved, loved, loved the narration of the main character Heather Wells and really wish I could take her out to lunch sometime! I'm not usually the type of reader who enjoys mystery novels, because I always seem to figure them out. I figured out this one, but it was just such a fun read that I really didn't care.

This is a must read! Perfect for the beach or any other lazy day you have coming up!

If you can ignore the fact that deaths at a university *residence hall* would not prompt a full-on investigation by the authorities, the stupidity of said authorities including a private investigator named Cooper (Heather's landlord and biggest crush ever!) who doesn't seem as bright and competent as Heather's inner thoughts would lead you to believe, and the character flaws Heather herself has despite being 28 and the only character to catch on that those aforementioned deaths were actually murders, this book is a light and easy read.

If you were able to get through the above sentence, Heather's run-on thoughts are sure to be a delight. :)

Reading from Heather's perspective was, at times, enjoyable, and her scattered thoughts add more show more fun to the storyline. However, if there was a drinking game for how many times the words "you know," "umm," and "not dorm...residence hall" were included, I'd be trashed before chapter 4. If Meg Cabot could pretend her readers are reading the book in one sitting and don't need the repetitive details ingrained in their minds, I'm sure we'd all feel a little better about ourselves. Heather also seemed inconsistent in situations. In the beginning of the book, she is bold enough to stand up for her pant size to a random stranger, but other interactions present her as lacking self-confidence.

The mystery was interesting. Not complex but certainly could catch the reader off guard when the murderer is revealed. But even after the big reveal, we are treated with this seemingly never-ending monologue of murderous motivations and dumb blonde jokes, almost as if to say, "Who wouldn't want to die after being subjected to this?" Details revealed are just unrealistic enough to make you wonder how it all should even make sense, but then you remember this is a world where cops don't care about deaths at a um, you know, residence hall.

Overall, I would only recommend this book if you're looking for a short and fluffy read, and you promise not to think too much. show less

Former teen pop sensation, Heather Wells, just wants to make it through her three-month probationary period as assistant director of Fischer Hall, one of the residence for New York College. And also have her extremely good-looking housemate/older brother of her ex-fiance, Cooper Cartwright, notice her in that way. But when a student's body is found at the bottom of the elevator shaft as the result of an apparent elevator surfing accident, Heather is unconvinced. Girls don't elevator surf. But Heather's quest to find out who's killing girls in Fischer Hall may mean she'll never see the end of her of probation or find out exactly what Cooper thinks of her.

I always enjoy reading a Heather Wells mystery. As the first in the series, we meet show more her delightfully dysfunctional family, her truly scrumptious housemate, Cooper, and of course Heather herself with her delightful neuroses and internal monologues. Mix this eccentric cast of characters with a good mystery and the book is a recipe for some entertaining reading. show less

I recently learned that this series is not just chick lit, it’s murder mystery chick lit about a former pop singer now working as an assistant director for a college dorm. (Talk about misleading covers!) When a student is found dead, Heather is convinced that it wasn’t an accident but murder.

At times Heather reminded me of Mia from The Princess Diaries, which I found fascinating and frustrating: they both live in New York; they’re somewhat famous; they feel judged for their appearance (albeit for different reasons); they’re generally optimistic and warm hearted; and there are similarities in how they think and express themselves. Similarities in tone, if not content. I can’t actually remember if Mia was ever blasé about show more being late, but it’s the sort of opinion which would be understandable, and maybe even endearing, coming from a teenager but is irritating from a woman of nearly thirty with a full-time job.

Anyway, Heather is kind and humorous, I liked the setting, and the mystery had enough twists to satisfy me. I read the next book. show less