On February 17th, just a few days after the Valentine’s festivities had come and gone, a chime in my inbox notified me that my blind date book was ready to be picked up from Z. Smith Reynolds (ZSR) Library. I collected my brown paper bag from the lobby’s library cart adorned with festive red and pink heart-shaped balloons, then ventured back to my dorm in heart-racing anticipation of what book would be revealed beneath the packaging.
In keeping with their annual tradition, Wake Forest University’s library ran their Blind Date with a Book program the week of Valentine’s Day. In pre-pandemic times, ZSR wrapped their book selections to conceal their titles, authors, and content, allowing students to browse and choose their next read in the true spirit of not judging a book by its cover. This year, ZSR adapted the pop-up event to a COVID-safe modality. Participating students filled out a survey of their book preferences and past reads, treating the selection of their next literary endeavor much like one would a dating app. I filled out a profile that I hoped would lead me to my next favorite paperback and later picked up the novel with which I was matched.
I was gifted an uncorrected proof of the thriller Santa Monica, released in October of 2020. In the opening lines of this debut novel by Cassidy Lucas, a joint pen name for the authors Julia Fierro and Caeli Wolfson Widger, the protagonist is discovered dead but nobody knows how or why. In classic thriller fashion, the readers spend the rest of the novel earning piece-by-piece of the background narrative, from alternating points of view of characters whose stories slowly intertwine as each chapter progresses.
This thriller slightly deviated from others of the genre up on my bookshelf, prioritizing pressing modern-day issues rather than an escape from reality. In a setting where the elitist, privileged community clashes with undocumented workers victimized by the current political climate, Santa Monica provides the perfect backdrop for conversations surrounding class, race, family dynamics, and immigration policy. Desperate to remind the reader of the contemporary setting and the authors’ own perspectives, this book features references to “Trump’s malignant regime” and “the Big Cheeto.” These references occur a few too many times for my liking—almost once a page—especially for someone who is desperately trying to forget that stain on American democracy ever existed. As I turned the last page, I found myself aching for more sense of ‘thrill,’ yet thoroughly engrossed in the thought-provoking themes the writing duo chose to address.
This novel exceeded my expectations for a blind date. I added a new read to my repertoire, indulged in a fun activity during the unexpected snow-day shut down last Thursday, and gained new perspectives to help inform my opinions on hot-button topics.
What can you take from this anecdote-turned-book review? As we await next year’s Valentine’s day, there are still plenty of fish in the sea—you might just have to scour the shelves of ZSR to find one.