Bitingly written with wit and style reminiscent of Candace Bushnell, Adèle Lang’s novel is a cutting, bitchy, hilarious take on the young-single-British-woman genre.
When weasel-eyed tax inspectors question her claims, Katya is forced to keep a financial diary. As well as documenting the cruel and parsimonious ways of her ad agency boss, Katya waxes lyrical about putting up with loser friends, mortal enemies, and thoroughly bad restaurants. She also throws in a candid account of her love life, in case it is tax deductible. A private account of expenses rapidly becomes, through Katya’s chronic delusions of grandeur, a matter of public record: first as a tawdry gossip column, then as a salacious book, and finally as a Hollywood B movie.
When weasel-eyed tax inspectors question her claims, Katya is forced to keep a financial diary. As well as documenting the cruel and parsimonious ways of her ad agency boss, Katya waxes lyrical about putting up with loser friends, mortal enemies, and thoroughly bad restaurants. She also throws in a candid account of her love life, in case it is tax deductible. A private account of expenses rapidly becomes, through Katya’s chronic delusions of grandeur, a matter of public record: first as a tawdry gossip column, then as a salacious book, and finally as a Hollywood B movie.
