The Vox called it: “a hollow, thematically empty book filled with hollow, psychologically empty characters”… I fully agree.

The Vox called it: “a hollow, thematically empty book filled with hollow, psychologically empty characters”… I fully agree.
Nauseating, mommy-soaked, goody-goody, goddy-goddy saccharine from a 21st century Stepford wife. Is this what feminism has come to?
Generates a fervent wish that the protagonist (hell, the writer) would get eaten by zombies. A bloody mess of a book.