Perfect Ten ― L. Philips ― “’We paint. We write,’ he says, and his pretty blue eyes are sparkling with hope. ‘We remember how to fly.’”

There are two types of books: the ones that you want to finish and the ones that you need to finish, and Perfect Ten was the second type. I was desperate for this book to simply be over.

Well, my experience was the second one! Oh my god! This book was one of the worst books I have read this year, and I wanted to buy it so bad! I understand that the demographics of this book is for young readers, but still, this was terrible. The main character, Sam, which is the most common name of YA, was so irritating. Literary speaking characters exist to support the main character, but this was an abomination. The purpose of the characters in the plot is to swell up Sam’s ego. Every chapter and interaction between characters was used to say how handsome, perfect, smart, unique Sam was in their small and mediocre town.

The book starts fine, and the synopsis is appealing, but as you get into the plot and the characters become vexing. Sam lacked so much common sense and objectivity. Getting into a spoiler, Sam falls for an exchange student that will be there for only one year, and he was expecting a full relationship with commitment? Sam has been complaining about being single but is getting himself into a relationship that is doomed to die! Or probably he was expecting this exchange student to drop his life and stay in the States because Sam is an adonis? Come on! I know that I am reading this with my life experience and that I am not a 17-year old teenager.

The book and the characters are shallow and lack personality! The author tries to play this alternative card of artistry hipsters that pain, write, like underground music, and drink coffee like if there wasn’t a tomorrow. The characters boast proudly for being snobs while complaining about how miserable their lives are for being rich and for having no supervision. It is highly contradictory because they want to play the adult game of going to bars, having one night stands, drinking coffee, going to museums, and playing the mature game, but, in the end, they are still kids that don’t know better.

Quite disappointing to wait for so long to finally read this book for it to fall so hard on its face. I wouldn’t recommend this book if someone asked me for a YA, Queer story of “magic,” and romance.

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