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Is living the life you’ve wished for really a dream come true? Lucy Young is twenty-six and tired. Tired of fetching coffees for senior TV producers, sick of going on disastrous dates, and done with living in a damp flat with roommates who never buy toilet paper. After another disappointing date, Lucy stumbles upon a wishing machine. Pushing a coin into the slot, Lucy closes her eyes and wishes with all her might: Please, let me skip to the good part of my life. When she wakes the next morning to a handsome man, a ring on her finger, a high-powered job, and two storybook-perfect children, Lucy can’t believe this is real—especially when she looks in the mirror, and staring back is her own fortysomething face. Has she really skipped ahead like she’s always wanted, or has she simply forgotten a huge chunk of her life? As Lucy begins to embrace new relationships and the perks of maturity, she’ll have to ask herself: Can she go back to her previous life, and if so, can she stand to leave the good part behind?
Is living the life you’ve wished for really a dream come true? Lucy Young is twenty-six and tired. Tired of fetching coffees for senior TV producers, sick of going on disastrous dates, and done with living in a damp flat with roommates who never buy toilet paper. After another disappointing date, Lucy stumbles upon a wishing machine. Pushing a coin into the slot, Lucy closes her eyes and wishes with all her might: Please, let me skip to the good part of my life. When she wakes the next morning to a handsome man, a ring on her finger, a high-powered job, and two storybook-perfect children, Lucy can’t believe this is real—especially when she looks in the mirror, and staring back is her own fortysomething face. Has she really skipped ahead like she’s always wanted, or has she simply forgotten a huge chunk of her life? As Lucy begins to embrace new relationships and the perks of maturity, she’ll have to ask herself: Can she go back to her previous life, and if so, can she stand to leave the good part behind?
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
Extraits-
From the cover
1
Today
My bed is wet. Not damp, but properly soaked, as though my pillow has been used as a sandbag during a flood. Looking up, I see a small stream of water dripping through the yellow stain on my bedroom ceiling: the source of my current dampness. The bedside clock tells me it's five am, which is the worst of all the ams-not early enough to guarantee getting back to sleep, but not late enough to contemplate starting your day.
Jumping out of bed, I navigate the obstacle course that is my cluttered bedroom floor and run down the corridor, out of the front door, and up the cold stone stairs to the top-floor flat.
"Mr. Finkley! Mr. Finkley! Your bathroom is leaking again," I shout while beating on the door with two fists. There's no response. He'd better not have died in the bath with the tap running, because then the whole ceiling might fall in, and I'll have his dead body to contend with on top of everything else. "Mr. Finkley!" I call again, with more urgency this time, trying to banish the mental image of my bed crushed beneath a pile of rubble and bubble bath. Finally, the door opens a crack, and Mr. Finkley peers out at me. He's in his sixties and has wispy blond hair that sticks out vertically on either side of his bald pate. His face is all angular features, and he wears brown-rimmed glasses permanently smeared with grease. Every time I see him, I need to remind myself not to call him Mr. Stinkley, which is what my flatmates and I call him in private.
"Bathwater is leaking through the ceiling again," I tell him sternly.
"I was having a bath," he says, winding a wisp of wet hair around his index finger, then removing the finger, leaving behind a hair horn.
"It's the middle of the night," I say wearily. "And remember the plumber saying you can't have baths, not until you've sealed the floor tiles properly? Any overflow comes straight down into my bedroom." My voice is measured, as though I'm explaining this to a toddler.
"I don't like showers," he replies, twiddling a symmetrical horn of hair on the other side of his scalp.
"Nor do I-especially when I'm asleep, in bed." I stomp down the stairs, calling back as I go, "Just put some towels down, please."
There's no point trying to reason with the bath-loving lunatic. I'll have to call our landlord, Cynthia, again. All any of us know about Cynthia is that she lives in Spain, is allergic to cat hair, and is a horribly negligent landlord. She often berates me for "vexing her with our domestic concerns," but I am vexed, Cynthia, I am extremely vexed.
Back in my bedroom, I remove my beloved books from their plastic storage box, then place the box on the bed to catch any remaining drips. Surveying the books, I feel like a mother who's failed to provide for her children. They deserve a decent bookcase; they deserve to be displayed, spine out, sorted by genre, not heaped in a pile on the floor of my damp room. One day, books, one day. After changing my sodden bed shirt, I crawl into the dry end of my bed, desperate for a couple more hours, but it's hard to sleep when your mind is racing and your toes are damp. I must drift off, because I wake to my alarm, confused as to why I'm sleeping upside down.
My room looks completely different from this perspective. Out of the window I see the promise of another gray spring day, and the spider plant on my windowsill looks even browner and sicklier than it did yesterday. The plant was a gift from my dad, along with the now-drooping yucca in the corner. He's convinced that indoor plants help stave off depression and anxiety. Ironically, keeping them alive until his next visit has become a...
Critiques-
September 1, 2023 A stressed-out London 20-something desperately wishes to skip to the "good part" of her life. Lucy Young is struggling. She works in her dream field, television, but she's a junior researcher who gets little respect. She lives in a dumpy flat with roommates who do things like make bone broth in the bathtub. Plus, she's stuck going on demoralizing first dates that never turn into anything more. When she finds a wishing machine at the back of a shop, she makes a wish to skip to the "good part": the part where she's met her soulmate, isn't broke, and has a career that makes her proud. The next morning, she wakes up in a strange house, with a strange man sleeping beside her. Lucy eventually pieces together that the wishing machine was real, and she's skipped the last 16 years of her life to end up in the "good part." Her husband, Sam, takes her to a doctor who diagnoses temporary amnesia, even though Lucy knows that's not what happened. No one believes her, though, except her 7-year-old son, Felix, who thinks she's an alien invader and becomes determined to send her back where she came from. As Lucy gets more familiar with her new life, she realizes that she really did get everything she dreamed of, but she has no memories of the happy events that got her there, like falling in love. Worse, she realizes that tragedies have happened and she has no memory of those, either. Lucy starts to understand that perhaps the woman at the wishing machine shop was right when she said, "Life is never quite sorted whatever stage you're at." Cousens has written another gentle love story that manages to be both hilarious and poignant. Lucy's time travel leads to many funny mishaps (like getting used to the high-tech cars of the future, which dispense positive affirmations in the voice of Stanley Tucci), but also some genuinely tear-jerking moments. A moving and funny reminder that life is meant to be lived one day at a time.
COPYRIGHT(2023) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
September 15, 2023 Best-selling Cousens (Before I Do, 2022) knocks it out of the park with this whimsical story that is reminiscent of the movie 13 Going on 30. Lucy Young is 26 and sick of everything going wrong in her life--bad dates, a stagnant career, weird roommates--the list goes on. She wishes she could just get to when she has her act together. One rainy night after a particularly bad tryst, she stumbles upon a shop with a curious wishing machine and does just that--wishes to skip to the good part. The next morning, she finds herself in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar but very sexy man. She looks in the mirror and sees her fortysomething reflection. It turns out her wish worked and now she has a killer job, is married, and has two kids. But she doesn't remember the last 16 years of her life. Flabbergasted, Lucy starts going through the motions of her new life while tag-teaming with her young son, Felix, to find a way back. This heartfelt and unique rom-com will have readers on the edges of their seats up to the emotional conclusion.
COPYRIGHT(2023) Booklist, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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