“Just smile and nod,” Gwen says. “How hard is that?”
“Very,” I say. “I hate half these people. I hate half of all people”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Carrie Soto Is Back
CBR16 Bingo: Games
It’s July 7th and I’m in the middle of a hot tennis summer. After finishing Carrie Soto is Back, I watched Challengers. I’m also reading a WIP fanfic that has hot people playing tennis, falling in love while playing tennis, tennis as a metaphor for failure, redemption, communication (you get the picture).
The point is, I’ve got tennis on the brain.
This is my third Taylor Jenkins Reid book and damn it’s a good one. I’m always surprised how addictive her storytelling is. I cannot start reading one of her novels and not finish it within 72 hours.
Carrie Soto, aka The Battle Axe, aka The Bitch, is, well…back. After retiring to undergo knee surgery, Carrie goes out on top as the winningest women’s singles tennis player of all time. She recovers after her surgery and begins her post-champion life. She comes to find out that it’s pretty empty.
Seven years later when a rising phenom ties Carrie’s record, Carrie cannot let it stand. She comes out of retirement to try and reclaim her title. To do this, she has to find someone willing to train with her, which is no small feat considering she alienated most of her peers with her “take no mercy” attitude and callous remarks. Her dad agrees to be her coach and her agent manages to find her a hitting partner, Bowe Huntley, who is also fighting to stay in the game despite approaching the twilight of his own career. Bowe and Carrie had a brief fling a decade earlier, and Carrie is surprised he’s willing to talk to her after the abrupt way their relationship ended
Despite the challenges of being the oldest woman competing, a fact which the media hypes constantly, Carrie perseveres. She knows she is good, in fact, she is great. But her ego and impatience keep holding her back. She has to win to prove to herself that she is still relevant, despite her father, and her friend Gwen, and Bowe reminding her that she is more than her record.
Carrie is the anti-hero I needed. She is rude and bratty and unapologetically herself. She is also completely relatable. She does not and will never take shit. She does not smile and pretend that her success is a surprise. She owns it and dares anyone to argue. She can also be a right cunt, and I love her for it.
For this year’s CBR16 Book Bingo Reading Challenge I’m choosing albums from the 1970s that helped raise me. When I think of Carrie Soto, I think of Barracuda from Heart’s iconic album Little Queen (1977).
