A woman's obsession with her new boyfriend's dead ex-girlfriend fuels this sharp and honest debut novel, a send-up of modern dating and loveMy fingers itched to put his name into the search bar. Once I'd found him, I'd have the cheat sheet.After fleeing to Melbourne in the wake of a breakup, all Ana has to show for herself is an unfulfilling job at an overly enthusiastic tech start-up and one particularly questionable dating app experience. Then she meets Evan. Charming, kind, and financially responsible, Evan is a complete aberration from her usual type; Ana feels like she has finally awoken from a long dating nightmare.As much as she tries to let their burgeoning relationship unfold IRL, Ana just can't resist the urge to find Evan online. When she discovers that his previous girlfriend, Emily, died unexpectedly in a hit-and-run less than a year ago, Ana begins to worry she's living in the shadow of his lost love. Soon she's obsessively comparing herself to Emily, trawling through her dormant social media accounts in the hope of understanding her better. Online, Evan and Emily's life together looked perfect--but just how perfect was it? And why won't he talk about it?Perceptive and original, full of both pathos and humor, Search History explores the contradictions and uncertainties of twenty-first century romance. Ana's journey down the Internet rabbit hole of modern dating asks the question: Which is our "true" self--the one we show to the world online, or the one we keep to ourselves?
This was a bit of a downer -- it definitely felt realistic but also much more cerebral and introspective than I anticipated. It was well written but I never felt any joy reading this book . . . although maybe that was the point. It asks hard questions without easy answers. I also loved the ending!
At some point after a breakup, the desire to sleep with someone else arrives. There is no universal timeline for how long this takes. On one occasion the desire showed up almost immediately, winking seductively at me from a door-way. On another, I'd tried to force its appearance, placing the cart before the horse, only to find myself weeping into the limp arms of a disappointed and horny stranger. This time, when my ex and I broke up, it took a few months; a period I spent busying myself with logistical distractions—moving out of the house we shared, and, later, packing up my halved possessions and fleeing across the country. Then, when the desire did eventually turn up, I did what was expected of me: I selected someone from an app.
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