Published by: Macmillan
Date released: 14/01/2021
Date read: 16/01/2021
When her business goes bust and her fiancé with it, Nell’s happy ever after in California falls apart and she moves back to London to start over. But a lot has changed since she’s been gone. All her single friends are now married with children, sky-high rents force her to rent a room in a stranger’s house and in a world of perfect Instagram lives, she feels like a f*ck up. Even worse, a forty-something f*ck up.
But when she lands a job writing obituaries, Nell meets the fabulous Cricket, an eighty-something widow with challenges of her own, and they strike up an unlikely friendship. Together they begin to help each other heal their aching hearts, cope with the loss of the lives they had planned, and push each other into new adventures and unexpected joys.
Because Nell is determined. Next year things are going to be very different. It’s time to turn her life around.
What can I say about Confessions of a Forty-Something F##k-Up other than I absolutely freaking LOVED it! Alexandra Potter is a genius. I know she said she was nervous about putting the book out there for people to read, but I’m so thankful she did. I read all 500+ pages in less than a day as I just couldn’t tear myself away from it.
I may be 12 years away from 40, but I felt so close to Nell whilst I was reading it. For example:
1) Single – Yes. I am nearly 28 and single. And yet I’m still being asked “when are you going to find a man and settle down?” Well in case you didn’t realise, there’s a pandemic on, and we’re not allowed to leave the house. Not conducive to finding a husband.
2) No children – See point 1. Pandemic + not leaving the house + no man = no children. Having kids would be fantastic, but 28 isn’t old to be a first-time mother anymore. In fact, the average age for a first-time mother is 30 so I got a little more time. And anyway, there’s enough children in my family to keep me busy at it is.
3) No job – Not my fault. Had a job. Enjoyed it. Pandemic came along (see point 1). Lost job. So now I search for jobs during a time when people either aren’t hiring because they don’t know if they’ll still be in business in six months’ time, or they pay too little because they’ve lost income. So instead, I say I’m a writer, when really I’m a failed author pleading for someone to publish my book.
So there you have it. 28. 12 years early. No partner. No kids. No job. So instead I’ll stay living in my mother’s spare room, with her and the dog for company, pretending to write, whilst I wait for Tom Hiddleston, Chris Evans or Henry Cavill to sweep me off my feet (2 metres away obviously).