Book Review: My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick
When I first picked up My Life Next Door, I was drawn in by its flirty cover and the promise of a summer love story. The title alone evoked the kind of cozy, sun-soaked afternoons spent flipping through a compelling read. As a fan of Sarah Dessen’s nuanced portrayals of teenage life, I was eager to dive into Huntley Fitzpatrick’s debut novel, hoping for a delightful exploration of young love and family dynamics. Unfortunately, what started as a promising tale soon felt like a swing and a miss.
At the heart of the story is Samantha Reed, a seemingly perfect girl with a picture-perfect life—a high GPA, a wealthy, successful mother, and enviable looks. But beneath that polished exterior lies the reality of a suffocating upbringing, cast in the shadow of her mother’s obsessive control. This backdrop paints a relatable picture for anyone who has grappled with the expectations of parents while yearning for something deeper. The contrast between Samantha’s well-to-do life and the joyous chaos of her neighbors, the Garrett family, is where the novel sparks its initial magic. I appreciated how Samantha’s struggles with her identity resonated deeply amid the happiness surrounding the Garretts, showcasing a theme that many teens (and adults) can relate to: longing for connection beyond societal expectations.
The first half of the book was enjoyable and lighthearted, with Samantha’s interactions with Jase Garrett, the charming boy next door, feeling genuine. Their relationship blossomed in a way that felt both sweet and refreshing. Jase, with his endearing qualities, was practically irresistible, yet my enthusiasm started to wane when the plot shifted gears.
While the initial banter and bonding between Samantha and Jase felt realistic, as the story unfolded, issues began to surface—particularly concerning Samantha’s inability to confront her mother about her relationship and the serious events that unfolded due to that omission. At first, I hoped for a compelling conflict that would challenge Samantha and drive her character development. However, the way she handled her mother’s mistakes felt frustratingly unrealistic. Her reluctance to stand up for what was right made it difficult for me to empathize with her plight; she seemed more like a puppet than a protagonist with agency.
Moreover, the sidelining of pivotal characters and missed opportunities for growth left me disenchanted. Samantha’s friendships, especially with Nan and Tim, were introduced with promise but ultimately fell flat. The resolution of conflicts felt superficial and rushed, reminiscent of films that bank on a happy ending without the requisite character growth that makes those resolutions feel earned. The absence of deeper sibling relationships and the neglect of character arcs for figures like Tim were points of missed potential that echoed in my thoughts long after I closed the book.
In the end, My Life Next Door served as an excellent example of how potential can be undermined by execution. The first half sings with honest reflections of adolescence, but the latter half gets bogged down in melodrama and unrealistic choices. While I can’t say I loved this book, I appreciate the effort and the moments of brilliance it contained. It might resonate with younger audiences searching for lighthearted romance or those new to contemporary YA, but for seasoned readers, it may feel like a case of what could have been.
If you’re in search of an easy summer read, perhaps give it a shot; you might find enjoyment in Samantha’s journey. But if you crave narratives that delve deeper into character complexities and moral dilemmas, this one might just leave you wanting more. On my shelf, My Life Next Door will quietly sit as a reminder of the vibrant potential that sometimes goes unfulfilled. Happy reading!
You can find this review and more on my blog, Ivy Book Bindings.