W
ounding with words is the talent of this lopsided novel’s heroine, so skilled at repelling her friends that she nicknames herself the Alienator. Unfortunately, the Alienator’s powers work just as well on readers, who are likely to find her such unpleasant company that they won’t stick around for the book’s more satisfying second half. At 26, Lauren Peterson uses a breakup with her fiancé as an excuse for an extended jag of self-pity about her single status, stultifying job and advancing age. She also feels abandoned by her parents, who’ve retired to Florida, leaving her to fend for herself in Portland, Ore. When Lauren’s never-married great aunt dies and wills her a Craftsman house, Laura must figure out how to use it without reprising her aunt’s chronically solo existence. While bitter and depressed fictional people are no fun to be around unless their gloom is accompanied by an acid wit, Lauren’s is not (“Geez, it seems you’re as short on patience as you are on hair,” she snipes at her balding older brother). French (Going Coastal
) eventually locates the warmth in her heroine and creates an agreeable fantasy about 20-somethings trying to find a meaningful adulthood. (July)
