Every time I’m on the lookout for a good, new read I have a few basic necessities. It can’t be too hard, it has to be a little bit relatable, and it has to give me something to look forward to every time I pick it up. When I picked up Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly, I thought it would hit all of my necessities, but it missed all of them instead… By a long shot. It is a story about a teenage girl growing up in a time around the 50’s, and it tells how her summer romance began, and ended, with every single little detail in between. And I mean every single little detail. It tells how the boy, Jack, forgets to call her one night, but then he does the next. Then how they take a walk. Then how Angeline tripped. Then how they got some soda afterwards… It gets really boring, really fast. Throughout the entire book, I found myself actually hoping that something bad would happen, maybe to bring the book to a little bit of a faster pace, but alas… None came. I had high hopes for this book, and overall they were strongly let down.