I’m going to do something I rarely do when reviewing a book: start with the bad. But PLEASE – promise me you’ll keep reading to the end of my review!
Ten Thousand Hours started out amusing. Which is why I downloaded the book. The banter between the heroine, Ivy, and her friends Jen and Camille was funny, and Ivy’s conversations with the hero, Griff, were hilarious! The story moved along, but somewhere around the 30 percent point of the book, I began to think “this book should be called Ten Thousand Pages” because good grief, I kept reading and reading and it didn’t seem like I was getting anywhere.
This 400+ page book took me four nights to read – which is unusual because I read a lot, and I read fast. And then I realized the reason why it was taking me so long. This author has mastered the art of using big, complicated words when a simpler one would probably work just fine. For example, when Griff and Ivy are going out on a date, they are quiet in the car, and instead of just saying Ivy doesn’t have a whole lot of things to chat about, we get this:
Her warehouse of scintillating chitchat echoed from low inventory.
And because of this writing style, I found myself reading slowly because I really had to pay close attention to what I was reading. I’m not saying it’s completely a bad thing – because the author did a good job of writing things in a unique way. But it did make the book seem LONG, especially in the middle 50 percent of the book.
Here’s what I loved about this book: the hero and the heroine, the side-cast of characters, all the dimensions of the story!
Ivy Miller is a doormat of epic proportions. Between her employer and her sister, she lives just trying to juggle a multitude of balls that are thrown at her, and does her hardest to keep them all from smacking her in the head. She’s Boring Old Ivy (her self-description…not mine), and has a heaping pile of self-imposed responsibilities.
Ivy had been born in a cell made of well-mannered expectations.
She was the jailer of the cage she couldn’t escape.
When she meets Griff two-thousand miles away from home, she does the unthinkable and has a fling, creating a whole new alter-ego for herself. It’s fun and exciting, and she liked how she was with him. She heads home, sad to see the fling end, but knows there’s no way she can behave like that back in her real life. Shortly after returning home, Ivy walks into her parents’ house, and finds Griff standing there.
Despite Ivy’s misgivings, Griff is able to convince Ivy to continue what they began on the island vacation. As they continue their relationship, Ivy is torn. She enjoys her time with Griff, but two things are causing her to hesitate. First, Griff is pretty much the poster boy for wild and exciting.
“In my misspent youth, I had delusions of daredevilry out of proportion to my coordination, that’s all.”
And second, Ivy doesn’t believe Griff is serious boyfriend material. When she begins proceedings to get full legal custody of her sister’s four children, her life gets real serious, real fast.
“There is no fair. Only what needs to be done.” Therein was the trap. Someone had to do what needed to be done, and no one else volunteered.
And as much as she enjoys her time with Griff, she doesn’t believe he’ll be up for dealing with everything that is her life for the long haul. But Griff is determined not to let Ivy lose who he believes she really is, and wants to be with her.
“This is my life.” This being babysitting Holly and the kids, with occasional extra kids thrown in for what passed as excitement around here. “I’m not fun or interesting or sexy, and pretending to be only leads to disappointment when reality intrudes.”
“You’re not imaginary. You’re beautiful and clever and warm every time I see you, none of which is disappointing.”
“He could fulfill the hell out of an obligation now, but his resistance to fun remained as weak as ever.”
When Ivy pushes Griff away, he spends some time thinking about what it would mean to be with her, and decides to go all in.
There would be no dipping his toe in the shallows to test the water. Her life was all deep end now, and the only choices were swim or stay dry.
“I don’t know how to make this work, Griff.” And that failure made her eyes sting.
“Neither do I.”
Her hope that he had a brilliant solution had been holding back the tears. When he put an end to it, her eyes overflowed. He thumbed a tear from her cheek.
“I don’t know how we work, but when I want something, I figure out a way. I want you. Give me a little more time, and I will find a way for us.”
So Griff does his best to step into Ivy’s world. Spending time with her nieces and nephews, getting to know her real life. Seeing the parts of her that she tries to hide from everyone.
Her mess filled the sink, and for what? Nobody ever turned down a pancake because it was an eighth of an inch flatter than one of hers. She made more work for herself so she could feel superior about something that didn’t matter in a feeble attempt to make up for feeling inferior when it counted.
Ivy does her best to push Griff away, but he can’t seem to let her go.
It all started the same with Ivy, two thousand miles from home. No name. No thought of a future. Bumping into yet another one-night stand should have been a passing this-is-awkward moment, laughed off, forgotten. But she clung like her namesake. Crept over him. He’d tried to prune her and been left bare, ugly, and cold – exactly as he’d been before but unbearable now that he knew how it felt to be covered by her. Now all he wanted was to nurture her until she grew all over him.
Ten Thousand Hours is a really good story about two people finding happiness with people they weren’t expecting to, when they didn’t believe they deserved it. The main characters are multi-layered, likable, believable, and very well written. Side-characters add a lot to the story. The dialog throughout the book is superb – there were SO many laugh-out-loud moments! Reading the synopsis for the book, I thought I knew what I was getting, but this story had so much going on, and so many dimensions that I was surprised by how compelling it is. If it weren’t for the wordiness that made a good majority of the book seem to drag (however I would like to point out that I wasn’t ever bored), this would have been a solid five star read for me.