There wasn't really anything wrong with this book, it just definitely wasn't for me. The MC is very young and it really shows. I thought she had interesting observations, at times. But overall, found the story a bit boring and difficult to relate to. I can kids in their late teens enjoying this one though. Overall, the MC's voice was distinct and the story was at times, entertaining, but probably not a book I'd recommend.

I really enjoyed reading Happy Hour as it features and unlikeable woman main character living in a big city, which is currently one of my favourite type of book!

I definitely recommend this to anyone that loves this type of book.

I downloaded this so long ago that I can’t even remember what interested me about it. Maybe it was the comparison to My Year of Rest and Relaxation, which I liked. Well, who on earth said that?! The books are both set in NYC and have young, female protagonists but that is about as far the similarity goes.

MYORAR was a dark and witty commentary, but I’m lost as to what the purpose of Happy Hour was. The plot is flimsy and there’s neither conflict nor conclusion – my overwhelming feeling was that it was all too juvenile.
I’m sure there is an audience for Happy Hour, but it isn’t me. It’s a light, forgettable novel about two friends (one the author of the diary we are reading) arriving in NYC, hustling to make some money in order to have fun. That’s it. It seemed to have Breakfast at Tiffany’s aspirations but lacked any real substance or message. There were at least a couple of points where the author (through Isa’s diary) tried to make a feminist comment, but they were rather clichéd and tired.

I suspect the aim was to present the characters as loveable, glamourous waifs, always getting in and out of jams, but they are very one-dimensional and even after reading I don’t know anything about them: Who are they? Where did they come from? Why are they in New York? If these things were addressed, I must have missed them. I prefer a bit more realism – I suspect young, naïve girls such as Isa and Gala would not last five minutes in the real NYC.

I reserve one star for books that are truly awful. Happy Hour in its innocence and superficiality could entertain a younger audience.

Thank you NetGalley and Verso for the ARC.

Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados: I had heard people comparing this book to My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh. This is true in that both books have an unlikeable/insufferable female main character living in New York City, but I felt that this book lacked the sharpness that Moshfegh's did - it read more like an episode of Gossip Girl.

Happy Hour is light and fun without compromising Granados's vision of depicting realistic female characters who aren't punished in their pursuit of pleasure. The summer of 2013 in New York City radiates so vividly thanks to Granados' clean and descriptive prose that when you think back on your favourite scenes, it almost feels as though you lived it yourself. Great summer read when you want to luxuriate in the heat sipping a margarita and an even better read during the winter when you need a little pick-me-up.

I just couldn't get into it. I read a review somewhere that said "reading this was like watching a mid-season episode of gossip girl" and I couldn't agree more. I didn't feel connected to the characters, the plot was meh, and I just couldn't find interest. C'est la vie.

I loved this book! It was a fun and engrossing read about two party girls taking on New York City. Very chic and definitely worth the read!

Really enjoyed a book that took me back to my time in New York young just starting out.A book that kept me entertained for me a fast enjoyable read.#netgalley #versobooks

This is exactly my type of book: a wry, Moshfeghian female protagonist in her 20s, navigating her way through a hedonistic, cosmopolitan New York City summer with a few dollars to her name. So obviously it gets five stars. If you read and liked: My Year of Rest and Relaxation, The Bell Jar or Sweetbitter you would probably like this - in fact you might like it more! Zero plot, just vibes. Languid, warm, luxurious and seethingly sharp.

Granados’ debut is even more raw and vulnerable when you see Isa as a stand in for the author. This fiction is a thinky veiled retelling of her own, evidenced through the book’s journalistic style and narrative voice. It’s incredibly brave and a pleasure to read. Isa, our protagonist, is valorous and confident and has the self-assurance and naivete needed to make it in the cruel city. Granados writes with a distinct voice and shrewd social commentary, her protagonist is very endearing - perhaps unlike Moshfegh - and her characterisations are so enjoyable.

Will definitely eagerly read her next.

Thanks to NetGalley and Verso for the advanced readers copy.

"And for me, where I really belong is almost never where people find me. That's something I often think about when I am met with hostility. It is never that I have done anything to warrant it; it's that I'm simply
there."

When we were younger, everything for the first timealways felt the best, or at least the Most, and sometimes getting older feels like striking the same chord and it sounding different.

Being unattached is exhausting. I see it all the time. Whenever a woman comes into a room and people find out she has a significant other, it suddenly takes the sting out of her. She is no longer a threat. I don't know why, but that's how it is. Without that reassurance, people look at you like you're some kind of rogue, capable of doing anything. Dangerous, unpredictable, and suspicious. Though it can be tiring, I think it's the most powerful
position to be in. I often find myself there.

Everyone knows that in New York no one helps you
when you have an air of desperation. Like grief, it feels
contagious. It starts with a sedate fever, but it moves
quickly, depleting you of all logic or common sense.
Socially, it can be a real stigma.

Beauty is a funny thing. It fools you into thinking you
like someone when really all you want is to possess
them. Ultimately, I guess that's what desire is.
Something I find so beautiful should be mine!

I don’t exist for other people’s curiosity, but sometimes it feels that way. One can be seen and then unseen just a quickly.

The less time spent in public, the safer girls feel. That’s not incidental; the world was built that way.

Whenever I’m on the subway or walking in the street alone, there’s a constant feeling of being in display. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt so strongly anywhere else.

Is it wrong to think of pain as quanitifiable? If it is not in quantities, how can we digest it? How does it move through our bodies without us knowing its size?

Rage is funny because letting it out leaves you feeling more powerless than you were to start with.

Sometimes when you think of a friendship, you wonder how it ever started and what keeps it together. Today, I couldn't think of any reason but Memories. Unmoored and drifting,
we were only holding on to each other for the sake of a shared history. What else bonded us? A general willingness to not discuss things. To not pry, to know that to ask would hurt each other, so sometimes skimming the surface is the best thing a friend can do.

Sometimes I think I must be attached to reality by a thin string.

Grief doesn't always start with death. It can come
before that, and once it starts, there is no end in sight.
We will all be touched by death at some point. I try to
keep it at bay as best as I can. People carry heaviness
with them, and this is my weight. I cannot get up to go
to the bathroom or get a glass of water. My body sinks
into the mattress like cement. This time of year, I feel
especially tired. Since she's been gone, the days keep
coming, one after the other. If time can go on, I can
too. Each day can carry me on its wave till months and
years have passed.

I have always given a convincing performance.

Do children ever know if their mothers are beautiful? I could never tell; she was too familiar.

It’s funny how children can still go on even after their parents have died. You’d think it was only polite for someone who gave you entrance to the world to see you through it.

I am alone in certain ways that I do not admit to strangers because why should I?

Grief is a currency I will not use. I would give up all my
chips if I could. Why won't anyone take them? I can
never stand the looks some people give, an empty
gesture of consolation I never wanted in the first place.
When I do tell people, I say it quickly, as though it's an
afterthought. I've never found use in talking about
grief with anyone. Even the people you expect to be a
comfort always disappoint.

Death makes people uncomfortable because there is
never a thing to say to make it better, and I am not one
to inconvenience someone else in their experience of
the world. People treat grief as though it is contagious,
like it must be isolated, snuffed out, and forgotten in
those that suffer from it. Whenever I catch people on
the empathetic end of a night of drinking, they look at
me and say, "I don't know how you do it." I am not
strong! I want to tell them. I am simply enduring.
Mothers hug me with an intuition of what I lack, and I
am thankful for that. I love them for it.

Resilience is key. It would be nice if whenever someone said, “I love you,” it meant, “Everything will be fine.” It’s all reassurance anyway.

Our capacity for appreciating art is limited to what we find beautiful.

Sure, as quickly as things come into our possession, they can be taken away. Was life really that different with or without these things?

How can you ever really know someone? People change and are in a constant state of revealing themselves. To think you know everything about someone is to leave yourself vulnerable to surprise.

And in the end I know I am passionate about glamour-because it is illusive, hard to define, yet identifiable. How are we to go through life without the chance at one more stint of glamour?

I do wonder whether my memories should stay only
mine, or have they ever been? Each time I tell someone
a story over a watery Pernod, it opens that someone to the possibility of the memory; that's why I adore
talking. Then maybe the stories really are mine, not
because they happened to me but because of the
indelible details I give. Maybe it is the how that makes
them valuable.

This story follows Isa Epley & her best friend Gala as they move to NYC to live a life they only previously imagined. Finances are tight and they spend each day selling clothes at a local market stall, only to blow their earnings at night clubs mingling with NYC elite. I appreciated the live fast, enjoy yourself mentality, but overall the diary format was not as engaging as I was hoping.

Ah, to be a vapid 20-something roaming the streets of New York in 2013 with a care in the world besides how you're going to pay your rent and thinking about how you'll make your mark on the "scene." Maybe it's because I no longer live in New York, and am no longer in my 20s, but as much as It think I'll love these stories of unlikable girls hustling their way through the big city, they just end up feeling shallow and uninteresting at the end of the day. Here, we have Isa and Gala; two British girls who come to NYC for a summer on what seems like a whim. Going out without any money and expecting your drinks to be paid for, and not really taking any responsibility for your own life is cute for a bit, but hinders this book as that is the only real plot.

Oof, I sound cranky! I'm trying not to be, and perhaps this might be your cup of tea, but I just don't see how this addition to this specific genre is worth it. I felt no attachment to anything or any of the characters within the story, and while Granados' writing is slick and fun, I think I would be more interested in a story from her that is a bit more fresh and plot-driven.

This reminded me of Sweetbitter in a way that I can't quite put my finger on. I love coming-of-age new adult stories based in big cities where a bunch of young people are just trying to figure out their lives. The writing was witty and smart, and overall this was a fun read.

3.75 🌟 This book is a glass of rosé on the porch, a story of a summer of two girls in NYC climbing the social ladder in their 20s.

This book is smart, witty, silly, shallow, and forgettable but entertaining. Melodrama at its finest.

Imagine a young vapid narcissist with the flare of Alexis Rose from Schitt’s Creek.

Unfortunately it was a bit repetitive and redundant, but I viewed it almost more like a satire/social commentary on millennial girls in NYC than anything else.

I think this could be a big hit/miss depending on your taste, but I fell right in the middle for this one!

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review ✨

While the writing of the book was smooth and flowed easily, I found the tale of two whimsical young women coasting through New York night life not to be to my taste. There wasn't much introspection for the main character, even though it was clear that her background held much to discovered. Overall, as a first book by the author, it was quite interesting.

This read like a list. First, they did this. Then, they did this. For the WHOLE BOOK. No thanks. DNF. Thanks to NetGalley, Verso Books, and the author for an e-ARC of this novel in exchange for my honest review.

DNF'ed halfway through.

I really wanted to like this book. It sounded interesting and cool but it just hold my interest. I actually read it halfway through and then dropped it. Then I tried to read it again... and i still couldn't get through it.

The writing doesn't feel genuine. It feels like someone kind of basic telling you about their summer and after so long, I tuned it out. I wanted to finish it. But also, there was no real plot so why would I? Not my fave.

Happy Hour follows two friends, Isa and Gala. I was not a fan of these girls and their antics. They were shallow and spoiled. Story was a quick read. Thank you Netgalley for the opportunity to read this ARC in exchange for an honest review. 3 Stars

At the crux of Happy Hour is an examination of female friendship and the total and complete naivety of youth in New York City. But surrounding it, is grief and sharp social commentary, and two women using their wits to get by in a world that was cruel and dangerous for them.

I adored Isa and Gala, their loyalty to each other and the fact that they knew exactly what they were doing - using their beauty and wits to bankroll their summer in Manhattan. But it was because they were so much more than pretty faces, that their characters were redeemed for me. I would love to read Isa's book, another glimpse of New York's glitterati, from an 'insider outsider'.

Unfortunately DNF this one. Good story but the AR was too difficult to read. Added to my TBR for the future!

I was very excited for this book and it has some FANTASTIC(!!!) sentences, but overall it unfortunately was not for me and felt a little repetitive at times.