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A review by jsncnrd
Thrown Off the Ice by Taylor Fitzpatrick
4.25
Going into Thrown Off the Ice, I was told to expect to be highly emotional, and by the end of the book, I truly was. I didn’t know much about the plot going into the book, and I think that was a good thing. Overall, I truly enjoyed the book. The story (when there was one) was an important one, and there were some truly affecting / touching moments. I did have a few irritations, though.
The good:
The neurological disability representation. It is something very near and dear to me, and I appreciated the genuine / authentic depiction of it — it is cruel, indifferent, and unforgiving, and that is exactly how it was presented. As soon as the word “Parkinson’s” came into play, I was devastated and I knew the route we were heading down. The author explored its emotional impact so realistically.
There was some great humor mixed in, and there were some truly great passages of the writing in general that I highlighted.
My frustrations:
The unrelenting use of the word “fuck” became distracting after a certain point. Used sparingly, it works. It being used to death added nothing to the story or writing style.
The characterization of Mike. I wish we had been given more context as to why Mike was the grumpy person that he was. When it came to developing him as a character, it felt like there was almost no change between who Mike was before the PCS and who he was afterwards. And, as an aside — him never telling Liam he loved him felt inexcusable, to be quite honest.
The sex scenes began to feel like a bit … much. I am ALL for adding some spice to a book. However, when the book is M/M, and it’s a female author doing it, it can sometimes come off as exploitative or overly objectifying or fetishistic. Unfortunately, that’s what it began to feel like in this case. Especially because that was the entire plot of the first half of the book. Sex. Exclusively.
Which leads me to the tonal whiplash. The book was, quite literally, split down the middle in terms of plot. I think even on my Kindle, the shift in tone happened right at the 50% mark. The beginning 50% of the book is sex. The remaining 50% is a descent into chronic illness and tragedy. It felt too compartmentalized.
With all that being said, this is an absolutely above-average book that covers topics of great importance and incorporates an enduring (if not sometimes toxic) romance that holds the lives of two people together. The epilogue had me in shambles. It’s a portrait of standing by someone’s side when you love them. It’s a reminder that you don’t have to suffer through pain by yourself. And it’s a call to awareness about the seriousness of neurological illness and disability.
The good:
The neurological disability representation. It is something very near and dear to me, and I appreciated the genuine / authentic depiction of it — it is cruel, indifferent, and unforgiving, and that is exactly how it was presented. As soon as the word “Parkinson’s” came into play, I was devastated and I knew the route we were heading down. The author explored its emotional impact so realistically.
There was some great humor mixed in, and there were some truly great passages of the writing in general that I highlighted.
My frustrations:
The unrelenting use of the word “fuck” became distracting after a certain point. Used sparingly, it works. It being used to death added nothing to the story or writing style.
The characterization of Mike. I wish we had been given more context as to why Mike was the grumpy person that he was. When it came to developing him as a character, it felt like there was almost no change between who Mike was before the PCS and who he was afterwards. And, as an aside — him never telling Liam he loved him felt inexcusable, to be quite honest.
The sex scenes began to feel like a bit … much. I am ALL for adding some spice to a book. However, when the book is M/M, and it’s a female author doing it, it can sometimes come off as exploitative or overly objectifying or fetishistic. Unfortunately, that’s what it began to feel like in this case. Especially because that was the entire plot of the first half of the book. Sex. Exclusively.
Which leads me to the tonal whiplash. The book was, quite literally, split down the middle in terms of plot. I think even on my Kindle, the shift in tone happened right at the 50% mark. The beginning 50% of the book is sex. The remaining 50% is a descent into chronic illness and tragedy. It felt too compartmentalized.
With all that being said, this is an absolutely above-average book that covers topics of great importance and incorporates an enduring (if not sometimes toxic) romance that holds the lives of two people together. The epilogue had me in shambles. It’s a portrait of standing by someone’s side when you love them. It’s a reminder that you don’t have to suffer through pain by yourself. And it’s a call to awareness about the seriousness of neurological illness and disability.