I wanted to love this book and given it's ingredients (three central characters, over the age of forty, discovering there's more to themselves than their roles as wives/mothers, meeting at a coffee house once a week) I should
have been in heaven. For one reason or another though, I just wasn't able to connect to any of the protagonists or the story itself. I don't think it has anything to do with Ms. Brant's talent as a writer - indeed I enjoyed her prose very much. Perhaps it's just a matter of not being in the right mood for this kind of book right now. In any case, I think plenty of other people will
connect where I didn't and find Friday Mornings at Nine
an enjoyable and satisfying read.