Slacks for Ella Funt

I occasionally pick up a chick lit book. Usually the ones about young women living in New York, working in some sort of publishing. These would seem to appeal to me given that I am a young woman living in New York working in publishing. However, these books generally annoy me because the writer is so concerned with the heroine’s love life that there’s not much about her career or New York. The heroine of this one had a few obsessions outside of her love life—her best friend’s approaching wedding, her job, the chance of a millenial apocalypse. Unfortunately, mostly she just complains about all of the above. Too much whining for me.