Book Review: The Last Song - Go Ahead and Proceed with the Mocking

So, I'm trying to broaden my reading horizons. I met a guy at the last writer's conference who liked to compare himself to Nicholas Sparks. Intrigued, I went to Amazon and started searching for one of his books. I landed on The Last Song. It was better than I expected.

It was a bit simple, the themes, which were easy to spot, were engaging and added a lot to a what otherwise would have been a fairly shallow story. The characters were somewhat flat, but Sparks never gave up on them and so the reader keeps reading about them. And despite the fact that it is predictable, it was fun to read. I look forward to reading another if only to see if this one was simple cause it was aimed at teenage girls, or if all of Spark's books are so easy.

Couple of things caught my eye:
The father, describing himself says: "Though he had certain talents as a mucisian and composer, he laced the charisma or showmanship or whatever it was that made a performer stand out. At times, even he admitted that he'd been more an observer of the world than a participant in it, and in moments of painful honesty, he sometimes believed he was a failure in all that was important."

I liked the way he says "more an observer than a participant."

The same character, a pianist, describing his regrets again: "He wondered when he would have an opportunity to play again. He now regretted not making the acquaintance of others in town; there had been moments since he'd boarded up the piano when he fantasized about approaching a friend with the request to play the seldom used piano in his living room, the one his imaginary friend regarded as decoration. He could see himself taking a seat on the dusty bench as his friend watched from the kitchen or foyer - he was quite sure on this - and all at once, he would begin to play something that would move his friend to tears, something he'd been unable to accomplish during all those long months on tour."

When Steve is dying, and his daughter is ministering to him, she watches him waste away: "He didn't answer, only held his breath, waiting for the pain to pass. When it did, he seemed suddenly weaker, as if it had sheared away a sliver of the little life he had left."

Then, these two simple metaphors were fun in context:
"At his answer, she felt something shake loose inside, like the first pebbles skittering downhill before an avalanche."

"It was one of those gorgeous evenings typical of the Carolinas - a soft breeze, the sky a quilt of a thousand different colors. . ."

So? Not bad all in all. Engaging but simple. Easy and simple. I'll try another Sparks, but probably not too soon.