Tag: grump/sunshine

Overall Grade: A

Tropes/Elements: grump/sunshine; forced roommate/proximity; renovation romance; found family; slow burn; former pro football player

Karla Sorensen’s The Best Laid Plans begins like a lamb and ends with a lion’s roar. There is a quiet to this story even in the midst of the banter between her MMC, Burke, and her FMC, Charlotte, a back-and-forth that highlights their burgeoning attraction. It’s about what’s not being said in Sorensen’s newest story, the words and feelings that can’t seem to be spoken which captivates me. And I have so many words and thoughts about this book that I struggle to bring any structure to this review. Let me just go where I want to go, and I hope you follow it and grab this book fast.

Karla Sorensen has always been able to craft chemistry. She’s not an overtly erotic author. She infuses attraction and $ex into her books, but she doesn’t grant us full access to all the details of those scenes. Instead, she develops the relationships between her characters so much so that, oftentimes, at least recently, her MMC and FMC don’t consummate or give in to their attraction until late in the story. For this reader, this pacing is impeccable as it holds the reader in its thrall. I never get tired of the burgeoning relationship because every moment seems to matter for the future of her characters. Her ability to grab her readers quickly and keep them engaged throughout the story is her strength. This is definitely the case with Burke and Charlotte. And it is necessary for the depth and gravity of this book’s story.

Now, here’s where I might lose people but it can’t go without mention because, aside from Burke and Charlotte’s story, their fight against their attraction, their coming together, the falling apart, and their happily ever after, the true genius of Sorensen’s The Best Laid Plans is its exposition and interrogation of grief. Yes, she lays this at the feet of Burke. She fashions his grief to be palpable for her readers, and she shows the futility of language to process loss through his characterization. It’s brilliant. Having recently lost a very good friend, I understand Burke and his messy grief process. It’s complex and uncomfortable and forever incomplete, and Sorensen captures this well.

But here’s where her capacity as an author shines: the house, the one that Burke and Charlotte renovate throughout the book, is a representation of the gravity of loss. The juxtaposition of a house seemingly dead being raised to life with the fixed death of one of his favorite people is profound. It’s chilling how Sorensen crafts this. How do you live life without that person? Sorensen uses the house as a metaphor for dying. Then, in the specter of that house, she underscores the message about living other people’s dreams, both Burke’s father’s but also Chris’s dream. For much of this book, Burke doesn’t even know how to dream, so Sorensen gifts him one with the house. The depth of development in this analogy is brilliant and impactful and emotional. You cannot read this story and not feel the gravity of life. She even illustrates the multiple processes of grief through both Burke and Charlotte. It quite honestly left me spellbound.

Add to all of that some keen stylistic choices that excited this reader. Chapters Thirty-One and Thirty-Two are my two favorite chapters because Sorensen uses repetition in these chapters to feel like punches to the gut. As Burke and Charlotte struggle to handle the loss of their relationship, the repetition underscores it. The intentionality of these choices supports my contention that Karla Sorensen is an intelligent, intentional writer. And more people need to read her stories.

The Best Laid Plans has a flavor similar to Sorensen’s former stories but has its own voice. That voice is a reminder of the fragility of life. If you leave this book without hugging those you love a little tighter, you’ve missed the power of Karla Sorensen’s message and her provocative new story.

In love and romance,

Professor A