Thrown For a Curve

“Though it starts strong, Sugar Jamison’s Thrown for a Curve falters early on. A story that could have been a sassy, funny spit in the eye that thinks beauty comes only in small sizes depreciates into a woeful series of faux tragedies and slapstick misunderstandings.”

Thrown for a Curve is the latest in Sugar Jamison’s Perfect Fit series. Cherri Rudy is a big woman in a tiny woman’s world. Nearing six feet and with curves to spare, she thinks she’ll never find love. Instead, she spends time with her Ukrainian immigrant grandmother and works for her friends at their boutique aimed at larger ladies.

Enter Colin O’ Connell. At 6’3” he’s not intimidated by Cherri’s size, but their age difference gives him pause. When he hires Cherri to work at his furniture restoration shop, sparks fly between them, and a series of emotional events are set in motion.

It is the increasingly histronic combination of these events that leads to the downfall of Thrown for a Curve. It starts out light and funny, with Cherri being dressed like an ’80s Barbie by her grandmother for her 22nd birthday party. The grandmother, Baba, is funny and sassy, an expected combination in modern Rom Coms. Cherri herself starts out as a strong, if a bit self-conscious, character. She throws zingers back at her grandmother, and eventually Colin, and is very likeable.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t continue far into the novel. Between the absolute conviction that being tall is a romantic death sentence (something that would come as a surprise to many women) and Jamison’s assertion that Cherri “wasn’t pretty by any stretch of the word,” such judgment apparently rendered because, “She was taller than most women, her shoulders broader, her weight heavier . . .”, Cherri is in a sad state within 12 pages.

We are continually reminded that Cherri is unattractive (though she is described much like the actress Kristin Johnson—no one’s idea of ugly); of course, Colin is a Greek god (even described in those words), with women falling all over him. It’s obvious that we are supposed to feel grateful on Cherri’s behalf that he even looks at her, but it leaves a sour taste in the mouth. A character and story that could have been affirming for those above size 3 is degraded.

Baba starts strong, as well, but quickly becomes a device to jumpstart a string of  “tragedies.” Her malapropisms are funny at first, but it’s unbelievable that every exchange would be rife with them after 50 years in America. As the novel lumbers along, she exists only to showcase Cherri’s woes: she has something like Alzheimer’s, leaving Cherri unable to pursue her dream of teaching; she breaks a jewelry box that leads to Cherri taking a job from Colin; she catches Cherri and Colin in flagrante delicto; she dies, giving Cherri ample reason to mope and moan through a hundred pages or so; she leaves Cherri enough money to do whatever she wants . . .

What she doesn’t do is have a reason to exist (after the first few pages) beyond sparking or highlighting woe after woe (including pregnancy, assumed infidelity, and more easily avoidable misunderstandings than you can shake a stick at). And Colin is a Plastic Paddy stereotype of an Irishman.

Most troubling is the lack of editorial direction. Action and scenes are episodic and abrupt, characterization is uneven, and the leads infuriatingly dense. How many times can one couple go down the, “Does he/she really love me?” road before they get a clue?

There are issues with repetitive phrases (“You’ll be the death of me,” stands out) and odd phrasing. Not even the writer apparently forgetting what type of dog Cherri owns warranted editorial attention: in the first chapters, Rufus is a Husky mix that stands almost as tall as Colin on its hind legs; by the end, he has a “small warm body.”

It’s almost like the manuscript was run through spell/grammar check and that’s about all. A trigger warning for the sensitive is in order as well: there is a scene of near rape between the principal characters, after which the pregnant victim is sorry.

Though it starts strong, Sugar Jamison’s Thrown for a Curve falters early on. A story that could have been a sassy, funny spit in the eye that thinks beauty comes only in small sizes depreciates into a woeful series of faux tragedies and slapstick misunderstandings. Cherri deserved better treatment.