Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

I'll give it my all... tomorrow

Pick of the Week: Signature Style

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MJ is on the road this week, so we’ve assembled a slightly smaller version of the Manga Bookshelf Battle Robot to take on Wednesday’s new arrivals. As always, we’re basing our recommendations on what will go on sale this week at Midtown Comics. And — not surprisingly, given the team’s reading habits — David, Michelle, and I are bullish about the new VIZ Signature offerings. Read on for our recommendations.

DAVID: It’s hard for me to pick among the three VIZ Signature titles that are arriving this week, as I like them all for their own reasons. Like an over-compensating parent, I’ll focus on the one I feel like I may be neglecting: the third volume of Shunji Aono’s I’ll Give it My All… Tomorrow. This shaggy, funny tale of a mope’s attempt to become a mangaka is the perfect tonic for Bakuman. Even more exciting is MJ’s promise that “in volume three stuff actually happens.” Slice-of-loser-life isn’t usually my genre of choice, but I love this book for its combination of biting humor and surprising sympathy. As Johanna Draper Carlson puts it, “I can relate, as can most adults who’ve grown up and made trade-offs.”

KATE: My vote goes to Gente: The People of Ristorante Paradiso, a series I initially found too drowsy to engage me. The latest installment, however, reminded me of a good Italian film: it has some comic moments, but the prevailing mood is wistful, as adults contemplate failed relationships, flirt with attractive strangers, and struggle to confess deeply buried feelings. At the risk of sounding like a grouchy old bat, one of the things I like best about Gente is that Natsume Ono makes age and experience look sexy; for someone who’s read a few too many stories about shy fifteen-year-olds who pine in secret for hot jerks, it’s refreshing to read a manga about real adult relationships. If only Marcello Mastrioanni had lived long enough to star in an adaptation… now *that* would have been hot.

MICHELLE: I’ll cast my vote for the other VIZ Signature offering, volume three of Saturn Apartments.  I described the first volume as a “low-key dystopia,” but the tone warmed up to “homey” levels in the second volume. After setting up the world and fleshing out its characters, I’m wondering where Hisae Iwaoka will take the story next, since volume two alluded to some mysterious action upon Earth’s surface. Even if it remains mellow, I’ll be happy, but should Saturn Apartments actually develop some intrigue, I can only assume that will be even better!

 

So, readers, what looks good to you this week? Inquiring minds want to know!

Off the Shelf: Home again

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MICHELLE: Man, is it just me or does it feel like forever since we’ve done one of these? It always feels so… restful to return to our normal format!

MJ: It *does* feel like forever. It’s like coming home after an awesome but exhausting vacation.

MICHELLE: Let’s never stray again! Please put me further at ease by proceeding to describe what you’ve read this week!

MJ: Okay! First of all, I took a look at volume three of Shunju Aono’s I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow from Viz’s SigIKKI imprint. I’ve reviewed both of the first two volumes of this series, the first for Examiner.com, and the second here on Off the Shelf, and my concern all along has been that not enough changes from volume to volume for the premise to sustain itself. I feared that I’d eventually tire of it, the way I have other ongoing comedy manga like Detroit Metal City. It’s the type of story that typically relies on the protagonist never actually getting anywhere, for if he does, the premise falls completely apart.

Imagine my surprise, when in volume three stuff actually happens. Seriously. Stuff happens. And not just any stuff, mind you, but exactly the stuff you think the author will never allow, by which I mean to say that the series’ hopeless schlub, Shizuo, actually gets ahead a little. It’s very well done, still funny, and actually kind of inspiring, which is not something I’d expected of a melancholy comedy like this one.

Some of the volume’s strongest scenes depict Shizuo’s dreaming dialogue with himself as he struggles with whether or not he should give up on his quest to be a published mangaka or resign himself to resuming his old, miserable life as a salaryman. These scenes are stark and rather touching, though there’s a real poignance to this entire volume that feels warmer towards its protagonist than it ever has before. A scene in which Shizuo determinedly takes on a temporary gig as another artist’s assistant especially springs to mind. It’s as though the author is leading us along the same path as Shizuo, and just as he’s beginning to believe that he can do something real, suddenly we can too. It’s really so well done.

Not that Shizuo’s troubles are over by any means, and his luck takes a less fortunate turn near the end. Still, it’s wonderful to see some actual forward motion in a series of this kind.

This is a terrific volume, and it’s finally got me really hooked on the series.

MICHELLE: I have never really been tempted to read this series before now, because I was sure it would be unrelentingly depressing and that I just wouldn’t find any of it funny. But stories in which a slacker and/or delinquent finds something to excel at and be passionate about are among my very favorites, so to hear that Shizuo actually gets a break piques my interest a little. I’m still not sure about it, but I’m at least more open to the idea of reading it than I was before

MJ: I thought this might get you at least a bit interested. I don’t know where the story’s ultimately going, but this really was a satisfying installment.

MICHELLE: I might wait until volume four, but if it continues to actually let Shizuo have some success, then I just might have to check it out.

MJ: So, what have you brought for our first night home? :)

MICHELLE: Both of my choices tonight are from VIZ, one each from the Shonen Jump and Shojo Beat imprints. From the former, I read the first two volumes of Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan by Hiroshi Shiibashi. It’s the story of Rikuo Nura, who is 3/4 human and 1/4 yokai and is set to inherit leadership of the yokai clan his grandfather rules. Rikuo’s not thrilled by this, but neither are the yokai, who regard him as a weak human unfit to lead them.

The series gets off to an inauspicious start. Rikuo is targeted by another yokai who thinks he should’ve been the heir, and as a result, some of Rikuo’s classmates are in danger. This spurs Rikuo to transform into a far more competent yokai version of himself, who commands respect, rescues his classmates, and proclaims that he will claim the leadership role. The problem is that the story resets in chapter two and Rikuo, reverted to human form, has no memory of any of this. Random episodic chapters ensue in which Rikuo and some friends—who have, led by one particularly fervent kid, formed a paranormal research society—investigate things like abandoned buildings on campus and creepy dolls. Their activities cause them to fall prey to another scheming yokai, however, who lures them to a yokai-infested mountain. As volume two ends, Rikuo has transformed again and is about to deal with his enemy.

I’m honestly not sure yet what to think about Nura. It definitely has some things going for it. I’m pretty fond of the cast of supporting characters, especially the quirky servants who are closest to Rikuo. While some of these characters look like attractive humans, there’s quite a bit of diversity in character design among them. The idea that, under Rikuo’s leadership, the yokai clan might be rehabilitated into actually helping humans also has merit. The problem, though, is that Rikuo is completely overshadowed. Pretty much, he’s just a dull little kid whom readers endure for the promise of his cooler self showing up. Also, while Shiibashi does introduce a reasonably strong female character in the form of Yura, an onmyoji exorcist who has a family legacy of her own to live up to, within a few chapters she’s rendered helpless and in need of rescue.

Ultimately, Nura has enough potential that I’ll keep reading it, but it hasn’t quite won me over yet.

MJ: Bland protagonists can be the kiss of death for me, especially when it comes to shounen manga, but I do like the sound of the supporting cast. There are quite a few yokai-themed series out there these days, though. Do you think this holds up against the competition?

MICHELLE: It’s certainly not going to be as poignant as something like Natsume’s Book of Friends or anything, but the yokai in Nura are more developed than your average supernatural creature that exists only as hero-fodder. More than anything, these yokai remind me of the dokebi in the lovely manhwa Dokebi Bride, in which the supernatural creatures function as sympathetic helpers to our protagonist. Some of the yokai in this series aren’t so nice, but those who reside in the main house seem to have genuine affection for Rikuo and also get some of the best comedic lines.

MJ: That does sound a bit promising.

MICHELLE: Hai hai! So, what else have you got this balmy eve? (Is it balmy there? It’s balmy here.)

MJ: New England is rarely balmy in May, though the weather has been good for hiking. My heart is plenty balmy, though, after checking in with a long-running favorite, Park SoHee’s Goong. This is the eleventh of Yen Press’ volumes, though with the new omnibus format, I’ve lost track of where we’d be in the Korean releases.

This series is a soap-opera in all the best ways, and there is some pretty gratifying romantic action in this volume at long last. It’s been painful to watch the series’ main couple get in their own way, time and time again, and it’s nice to finally see them both grow up a bit, especially emotionally-impaired Shin. Things fall apart nearly as quickly as they come together, of course, but there’s a sense that real progress has finally been made.

Releasing these in double-length volumes is the best thing Yen Press could have done for this series, in my view. With so much more story included in each new volume, it’s easier to remember what’s happened from one volume to the next, since they each leave a much stronger impression. As a result, these volumes are smooth, smooth reading–a big plus in any romantic story, and especially with a romance as slowly-developed as Goong‘s. Though I’m still anxious for the next volume to come my way, there is enough here to keep me satisfied regardless of the wait.

Park’s artwork really shines here, keeping the relationships nuanced despite the sudsy plot, and her costuming just gets prettier and prettier with each passing volume. She obviously loves all of these characters, even the ones she’s written as semi-villians, and this is most apparent in her very expressive artwork.

Now if she’d only ax Eunuch Kong. *sigh*

MICHELLE: It might say somewhere in the fine print, but I am pretty sure that volume eleven of the Yen Press editions corresponds to volumes thirteen and fourteen of the original.

I am really eager to plunge back into Goong. Somehow, I still haven’t read past volume six! On the plus side, this means I have the ingredients for an awesome binge before me. I really must wholeheartedly endorse these omnibus releases.

I am, however, sorry to hear Eunuch Kong still exists. It seems like he’s the negative refrain anytime anyone mentions this series. Perhaps he’s funny if you’re Korean?

MJ: Maybe? Park seems to think he’s hilarious. Sadly, my thoughts of him are invariably violent.

You really do need to start a Goong binge. It’s just so enjoyable, even at its most painful.

MICHELLE: I think every time Eunuch Kong irritates me, I’ll just imagine you slapping him upside the head. That ought to help.

MJ: So tell me about that Shojo Beat title you mentioned!

MICHELLE: My second read was the third volume of the ever-charming The Story of Saiunkoku. Technically, this would probably be classified under the genre of historical fantasy, but really, it reads somewhat like a slice-of-life tale. Shurei Hong, once consort and tutor to the emperor, Ryuki, has returned home after successfully inspiring him to govern properly. Most of the money she earned for doing so has already been spent, however, and the upcoming summer storms will necessitate more repairs to the family home. The family’s financial situation inspires their servant, Seiran, to accept a job dealing with bandits and when Shurei is herself offered the chance to help out in the understaffed Ministry of the Treasury, she accepts.

The catch is that women aren’t allowed to hold government posts, so Shurei must disguise herself as a boy. Other shoujo series would focus on the act of disguise itself, and the plot would revolve around the heroine’s attempts to keep her gender under wraps. Not so with Saiunkoku! Instead, the emphasis is on what the experience means to Shurei—though it’s certainly rewarding to prove herself capable of handling the demanding work, it’s painful that it’s a job she’d never be permitted to perform under her own name, since girls are prohibited from taking the civil servant exam.

I must add that it’s refreshing to have a genuinely brilliant heroine. Not only does Shurei perform her work admirably and continue her studies in the evening, but she also demonstrates good basic common sense. Perhaps to some this would suggest that she’s dull, but she’s really anything but. I appreciated too that Seiran, heretofore a mostly quiet and handsome fixture, shows a more snarky and manipulative side.

There’s may no real plot here yet, but with a story like this, it’s all about living with the characters in their world, and that is a very enjoyable prospect indeed.

MJ: This: “Instead, the emphasis is on what the experience means to Shurei…” THIS. THIS. THIS. I love this about The Story of Saiunkoku. I love Shurei’s smarts and her dedication to civil service, despite the fact that she’s held back by the gender norms of her time. I haven’t read volume three yet, but now I’m so anxious to pull it off the shelf!

MICHELLE: There’s a really beautiful scene where she says, “What was once just a whimsical daydream brushed so close to my reality that I began to hope my hands might just reach it.” Up until now, she’s been able to set reality aside and pursue learning for its own sake, but the disparity between the life she might have had and the expectations for her as a girl—even a kindly woman’s remark about finding a good man is a harsh reminder of what she can hope for—has really been brought home. This is truly a special series.

MJ: Oh, wow. I’m feeling a little teary and I haven’t even read it!

MICHELLE: Go read it now!

MJ: Well, okay!

Um. Bye.

MICHELLE: Bye! Everyone else, learn from her example!

Off the Shelf: First reads, second chances

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Welcome to another edition of Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle! I’m joined, as always, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

We’ve got another Tokyopop debut series to look at this week, and a mix of debuts and continuing series from Yen Press and Viz Media as well.

MJ: I like fruitcake.

MICHELLE: You have my deepest condolences.

MJ: Hater.

MICHELLE: I tend to generally not like bread-like items with things in them. That said, I was a kid the last time I tried it so would give it another chance.

Can you say the same about the manga you read this week?

MJ: Hmmmm, well, not quite. Or, I should say, “not necessary.” But I’m guessing you can?

MICHELLE: More like a “probably not” and a “this one was on its third chance already” kind of thing. :) But first, the former!

I really wanted to like AiON, TOKYOPOP’s new series by Yuna Kagesaki, the creator of Chibi Vampire. The cover is pretty attractive, after all (if you can get past the moe factor), and shows off the publisher’s snazzy new trim dress. Plus, the back cover blurb starts with six tantalizing words I never expected to see strung together in this order: “Mermaids and mind-controlling parasites wage war…”

Unfortunately, despite the cracktastic potential suggested by that phrase, the story as presented in the first volume is exceedingly dull. Wealthy Tatsuya Tsugawa has lost both his parents the week before, and yet seems largely unaffected by this aside from trying to live up to his dying father’s wish that he become a great man. This compels him to intervene when he notices a classmate, Miyazaki, being bullied. She tells him several times that she wants the bullying to continue, but he can’t leave her alone and eventually learns that she was purposely antagonizing the bully the better to extract a parasite that was infecting her.

Perhaps the story doesn’t seem so boring in summary form, but it really, really is. I lay most of the blame at the feet of Tsugawa, who is just so utterly generic that the only thing remarkable about him is the extent of his blandness. At the halfway point, when he questions why Miyazaki’s opinion matters to him and wonders if this means that he likes her, I quite literally set the book aside and had a brief nap. That’s how believable and meaningful the scene was.

Tsugawa and Miyazaki interact a few more times, with the inevitable result that she winds up moving in with him. Love and parasites will surely ensue, but man, I can’t imagine sitting through a second volume.

MJ: I’ll admit the story doesn’t sound *so* boring in summary form, but your nap anecdote is difficult to ignore. Also, where are the mermaids?

MICHELLE: An excellent question! I don’t recall a single mention of them. More vividly, I recall the half dozen grammar errors that plague the text. All in all, it’s not a very auspicious debut.

Did you fare better with your picks this week?

MJ: I did, particularly with my first selection, which I found quite charming. This week, I finally got around to picking up Julietta Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss, a supernatural romantic comedy from Viz’s Shojo Beat imprint.

Like AION, this series begins with its protagonist, Nanami, being essentially orphaned, though in this case our teenaged heroine’s father has not actually died but skipped town to avoid his gambling debts, leaving his daughter to face the collectors all alone. Once she’s been evicted from her apartment, Nanami ends up in the park where she meets a strange man who offers her his home if she’ll take over his job. Before she knows what’s happening, he’s sent her on her way, but when Nanami reaches the home that’s been promised her, it turns out to be a shrine–of which she’s just been made god!

An argument could be made that this premise sounds much less interesting than AION‘s as you’ve described it, but fortunately this one is well-executed and genuinely fun.

Nanami’s cut from pretty standard shoujo cloth–a spunky young woman with no obvious talent aside from her determined optimism, but she’s got a great foil in the form of Tomoe, a fox (the supernatural kind, though the other kind too) who served the shrine’s former kami and who is beyond dismayed to find himself bound to someone like Nanami. Tomoe is catty and cynical but excellent at his job, and watching him work and argue with Nanami is the source of most of this volume’s charm.

What I especially appreciate about this series, is that regardless of Tomoe’s tremendous superiority complex, he’s far too lazy to be controlling like so many shoujo love interests, and even his surliness is kept staunchly at bay thanks to Nanami’s power of kotodama, which forces him to do her bidding whether he wants to or not. In a way, Kamisama Kiss is everything that Black Bird could have been if not for its heavy misogynist overtones. Like Misao, Nanami’s surrounded by yokai who would just as soon eat her if they had the chance, but unlike Misao, Nanami has agency, and that makes all the difference in the world.

MICHELLE: It’s interesting that you mention Black Bird, because I did the same in my recent review of Kamisama Kiss, though mine was more in the context of being worried about some of Tomoe’s comments as contrasted by his kindliness. You’re right about the kotodama giving Nanami an advantage, though—actually, this combined with Tomoe’s white ears puts me in mind of Kagome’s ability to compel InuYasha‘s titular hero to “Sit!”—so perhaps I oughtn’t be so concerned.

MJ: It’s interesting to me that you had that concern, because this series didn’t ping me that way at all, and not just because of Nanami’s kotodama. Tomoe may be surly and condescending, but he’s expressed zero sexual interest in Nanami so far, and he thankfully lacks Kyo’s predatory lust and possessiveness, which is what makes Kyo so controlling and repulsive. Tomoe’s neither as clingy nor as abusive as Kyo, and though it seems clear that Tomoe and Nanami are being set up for romance, I feel like they’re starting on even ground, thanks to their individual strengths and weaknesses.

MICHELLE: Yeah, you’re right. And it wasn’t so much that I thought there relationship was like the one in Black Bird, but more that it made me think of Black Bird, which is usually not a good sign! :)

MJ: Yeah, I can relate to that. :D

So what else have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: You’ll be pleased to hear that the series to which I gave a third chance is Nabari No Ou! It’s very rare that you and I should disagree about a series, but it happened with this tale of a reluctant ninja. I found the first two volumes to be mighty boring, but I’m happy to report that things pick up a lot in volume three and stay pretty interesting through volume five!

The basic gist of the plot is that a middle schooler named Miharu Rokujou is inhabited by an immense power known as the “Shinra Banshou,” and two factions of ninja clans are fighting over him. Both are after a set of five scrolls containing the “secret arts” of the various ninja clans, though one group thinks they can use these scrolls to dispel Shinra Banshou while the other seeks to activate it. In volume three, Miharu and his protectors (they of the “dispel” camp) accept a job to assassinate a scientist in exchange for one such scroll, which leads Miharu’s protector Kumohira-sensei to question his convictions and ultimately, to a chilling culmination of the assignment. Volumes four and five deal primarily with the backstory for one of the characters’ brothers, and manage to sustain much of the momentum gained in volume three.

Don’t get me wrong, I still yawn when reading about the squabbling clans or the all-powerful scrolls, but the characters and their relationships are what have piqued my interest at last. Largely this is facilitated by the head of a rival clan—the one who hired them for the assassination job—who possesses the ability to read minds and threatens to reveal everyone’s “grave secrets.” This gets everyone suspicious of one another, with some pretty dramatic results. I’m most interested in the dynamic between Miharu and Kumohira, because the latter seeks to obtain the former’s trust while revealing as little as possible about what he remembers of some cataclysmic past event, but I also quite like scenes between Miharu and Yoite, another young man who should be Miharu’s enemy but for whom he seems willing to do just about anything. I’m sure there is loads of fanfic written about these two.

Anyway, I am finally on board the Nabari train.

MJ: I am very pleased to hear this! I feel like this series has been the skeleton in the closet of our friendship! Or something like that.

I agree that it’s the relationships that really make this series come alive, though I liked them earlier on than you did. Or maybe I just liked Miharu so much, I felt more patient about the rest. He’s the kind of enigma I enjoy most. I haven’t fully dug in to volume five yet, but now I’m really looking forward to it.

I feel like I should have many smart questions to ask you, now that you’ve read further into the series, but I find I mainly just agree, particularly on your feelings about where the most interesting relationship drama currently resides.

MICHELLE: I found Miharu petulant at first, but once the mind-reader arrived and saw that his indifference is just a front, I found him more appealing. I must say, it is somewhat of a relief for us to be on the same page at last! :)

What else have you been reading this week?

MJ: I’m a bit tardy on this one, but I’ve just finished the second volume of Shunjo Aono’s I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow from Viz’s SigIKKI line.

I enjoyed the first volume of this series, but my greatest concern at the time was that the series might quickly become unreadable if something didn’t change for its painfully lost protagonist. Fortunately, that pitfall has not yet come to pass, though not for the reasons one might imagine.

The second volume finds Shizuo still plugging along in his half-hearted, humiliating way, creating bad manga that may never be accepted for publication, imagining romantic interest from a woman who is merely kind to him, and imposing on the few people who inexplicably care for him, including his daughter and his younger friend, Shuichi. A bit of backstory helps to put his stunted personality in perspective, but it’s truly agonizing to watch him fumble through life, especially should one catch a glimpse of oneself in Shizuo’s plight, which, believe you me, is uncomfortably easy for many of us to do.

What really saves this volume, however, is that it miraculously develops a hero, and that hero is, surprisingly, Shuichi. Here’s a quiet, pretty much expressionless guy, who manages somehow in the least likely arena to display the kind of compassion and fearlessness one might expect from a shounen battle hero. I won’t spoil you by telling you what happens, but I will say that I actually cheered audibly at one point in this volume. Being a melancholy seinen comedy, Shuichi’s heroism doesn’t get him much but a messed up face and the loss of his job, but it’s still a damn good read.

Of course, Shuichi isn’t actually the hero of this manga, and even now I find myself wondering how long the story’s premise can last without becoming too depressing to bear. But Aono’s won my confidence enough to compel me towards volume three, and that’s no small feat.

MICHELLE: I haven’t even been able to work up the desire to give this series a first chance, much less a second or third. It just sounds so… horribly frustrating and bound to leave the reader depressed. Maybe it’s shallow of me, but I’d much rather read something utterly frivolous.

MJ: It’s not necessarily an easy read, that’s for sure, though it is genuinely a comedy. It’s not self-consciously dark.

MICHELLE: Yeah, but I have a history of finding unfunny series that others find very amusing, like Detroit Metal City. I think I’ll continue to stay away from this one.

MJ: Probably a good call. Though I hope you’ll give fruitcake another try someday. ;)

MICHELLE: It might take some time to muster up the nerve.

MJ: So it’s often been said.

MICHELLE: Many times, many ways?

MJ: “Merry fruitcake… to yoooooou.”

MICHELLE: *pachi pachi*

Many thanks to Michelle for indulging me in 22 installments of this feature since we first began back in August! Join us again in the new year for an all new Off the Shelf!

I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow, Vol. 1

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I’ll Give it My All… Tomorrow
By Shunju Aono
Published by Viz Media.
Rated T+ (older teen).

Shizuo Ogura is a single dad and low-level salaryman who, at the age of forty, drops out of the workforce to find himself. In actuality, where he “finds” himself is lost, unmotivated, and paralyzed by guilt and an increasing sense of panic. When inspiration finally hits and he announces to his family–his elderly father and teenaged daughter–that he’s decided to become a mangaka, the news is not terribly well-received.

Determined to prove himself, Shizuo digs in enthusiastically, despite a lack of any previous ambition or experience in the field. Unfortunately, his resolve fades quickly under the pressures of everyday life, eventually becoming part of an endless pattern of grand declarations, chronic procrastination, and unfulfilled promises, both to himself and to his family.

This series is technically a comedy, but it has a firm grasp on several unpleasant truths that are just too real to laugh at for anyone who has experienced this kind of profound loss of confidence at an age many would consider to be too late for a fresh start. Furthermore, Shizuo’s life lends itself to a series of humiliations, beginning just pages in when he runs into his teenaged daughter at a massage parlor (she’s working, he’s just finished being, uh, serviced) and going downhill from there. Though he’s moderately likable, Shizuo’s persistent inability to improve his circumstances is painful to watch, and it’s difficult to imagine how the series will remain readable if something doesn’t change pretty shortly into its next volume.

That said, volume one is genuinely funny and often insightful, especially when portraying Shizuo’s strained relationship with his daughter, who finally lets out some of her frustration with him near the end. “What would you do if I got published?” Shizuo asks her, after a volume’s worth of progressively pathetic starts and stops. “I really don’t know,” she responds. “So get published and we’ll find out.”

Aono draws Shizuo in a style that should feel cartoonish and exaggerated, but doesn’t. Shizuo’s hunched shoulders, awkward posture, and oversized head ably represent the epic torpidity of his character in both sickening and sympathetic terms, stopping just short of caricature. As a result, Shizuo exists in a sort of amplified reality that is both uncomfortable to accept and too real to ignore.

Whether providing a cynical chuckle or hitting just a bit too close to home, I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow is a surprisingly compelling read.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Examiner.com.