Robyn Sisman (1949–2016)

This is a story about a couple of true misfits: Freya, a career woman in her mid-thirties that just can’t seem to get her act together, and Jack, a best-selling writer who can’t sit down and actually write. Freya keeps trying throughout the book to be some sexy, flirty young thing, at the same time wanting her boyfriend, Michael, to propose and dreading it. She doesn’t know what she wants, and I think that’s something that speaks to every devourer of chick lit. And then there’s Jack – poor, hopeless Jack – who blames the world for his inability to sit down and focus on writing his next novel. Distracted by “teeny-boppers from Planet Bubblegum” and filled with his own self-importance, Jack’s head is too full of himself for any creativity or passion for his novel to fit in there.

Just Friends has a positively delicious blend of sexual tension, almost connections, misunderstandings, sudden realizations, and hurt feelings. Freya and Jack keep coming so close to finding something meaningful, to discovering things about themselves that would help them break free of the traps they’ve built for themselves, but they keep turning away from the truth. I cried for them and my heart broke for them, and in the end Robyn Sisman comes through in true chick-lit style and there’s a happy ending for all.… (mere)