Spelled Out

The end of Crossing the Bridge by Michael Baron (which I've discovered is a pen name) was happy, predictable, and a little bittersweet. I'm a tad bit disappointed that for three days I committed to this novel and at the end, you get exactly what you wanted. Which isn't always good.

The good thing about this novel was that I could really connect with the characters. What was going on between them and inside of them was something we all go through, something we all struggle with. And I was more than happy to hold Hugh's hand and drive with him to Lenox. I would have sat in the theater while Iris' production drove the crowd wild. My money could have been used to buy the chess book so that Hugh could reconnect with his father. I was completely ready to join sides with the characters in this novel.

The hopeless romantic inside of me was happy at the end. Everyone healed. Everyone let go. And everyone survived. And they all lived happily every after.

But the disappointment grew. Because not all things end with a cute smile and a lovely song full of inspiration. After a novel that forced the reader up and down emotionally, we hung on with a tight grip, our knuckles white. Then details fell into place and there was no question what would happen. The future of the characters beyond the pages was spelled out and perfect.


Crossing the Bridge on Amazon