Objects of my Affection, Jill Smolinski

IN MY USUAL STYLE - SPOILERS ABOUND (But it's a good review, you should check it out.)

Objects of My Affection is a fairly lighthearted, easy read. In a nutshell and because I can’t help myself: Girl is dumped, out of work, out of her home, and sharing a room with her girlfriend’s 4-year-old daughter. Lucy is desperate to start over.

This all seems like a typical start to an airy novel until you reach the part of her new job. Meet sarcastic, once-famous-totally-eccentric-now-hoarder Marva. Oh, how I love this old gal's snark. At first, the reader wants to shake Marva for her rude, impetuous behavior, but as the story unfolds, and it does so beautifully, we see the wounded, insecure person even those we hold in higher esteem (age, notoriety, status) hide.

As the book takes its familiar feeling twists the underlying story, the one that hit a home run for me, is the relationship between Lucy and her son; a 19-year-old addict who uses and abuses his mother, rinses, and repeats. We learn why she is essentially homeless, penniless, and heartbroken.

Jill Smolinski’s depiction of this volatile, gut-wrenching mother-child experience will resonate with anyone who has ever had a lost or wandering child, one who makes you feel weak, insignificant, a failure as a parent. Throughout the latter half of the book, Lucy and her son hit on raw, emotional, and real-life events, feelings, and thoughts that occur when dealing with a situation such as addiction.

As is to be expected, everything works out for all parties as we would hope – all tied up in a nice bow. I’m not necessarily an advocate or fan of that type of ending, but, in this case, with so much at stake (child’s life, mom and child relationship), as a reader, I needed it to end this way. Not sure I would have recovered if it hadn’t. The ending gives hope to those of us who have walked in Lucy’s shoes, either in the past, present or future.

Well, done, Jill Smolinski – you brought to light the ugliness of parenting an addict without a slap in the face. Marva, our brash antagonist is the perfect balance to bring levity to this heavy situation. Your message was not lost on this reader from a personal perspective: Never give up on your child. From an outsider's perspective, what I hear you say, is: You have no idea what it's like, but it isn't easy, and it isn't pretty.

I would highly recommend reading this, or gifting it to someone who doesn't understand your shoes if you are a parent navigating child addiction; it will subtly get their attention.