{"id":4732,"date":"2025-11-07T05:21:13","date_gmt":"2025-11-07T05:21:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=4732"},"modified":"2025-11-07T05:21:13","modified_gmt":"2025-11-07T05:21:13","slug":"some-kind-of-famous-by-ava-wilder","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=4732","title":{"rendered":"Some Kind of Famous by Ava Wilder"},"content":{"rendered":"

There\u2019s something remarkably brave about a book that refuses to romanticize rock bottom. Ava Wilder\u2019s third novel, Some Kind of Famous<\/strong>, arrives as a tender examination of what happens after the spectacular fall\u2014when the cameras stop flashing and you\u2019re left to piece together a life from the fragments of who you used to be. This contemporary romance doesn\u2019t simply ask whether we can rebuild ourselves; it interrogates the very foundation of what makes a life worth living when your identity has been stripped away.<\/p>\n

Merritt Valentine once commanded stadiums. Now, at thirty-five, she struggles to command her own life. A decade has passed since her career-ending breakdown onstage, since the headlines screamed and the industry moved on without her. Crested Peak, Colorado, offers something Los Angeles never could: anonymity wrapped in mountain air and the unconditional support of her twin sister, Olivia. Yet healing isn\u2019t a linear journey, and Merritt discovers that hiding from your past doesn\u2019t necessarily mean you\u2019ve confronted it.<\/p>\n

Enter Nikolaos Petrakis, the local contractor whose rugged handsomeness initially makes Merritt want to run in the opposite direction. Niko represents everything she\u2019s sworn off\u2014intensity, connection, the terrifying vulnerability of being truly seen. When her neglected house needs extensive repairs, avoiding him becomes impossible. What unfolds is a slow-burn romance that understands attraction isn\u2019t just physical chemistry; it\u2019s the exquisite terror of letting someone witness your unvarnished truth.<\/p>\n

The Architecture of Character<\/h2>\n

Wilder demonstrates exceptional skill in constructing characters who feel achingly real rather than merely likable. Merritt is prickly, self-aware to the point of self-sabotage, and carrying wounds that haven\u2019t fully healed despite a decade of distance. She\u2019s not the manic pixie dream girl or the broken woman waiting to be saved. She\u2019s someone actively working on her recovery while battling the gravitational pull of old patterns. Her relationship with sobriety feels authentic\u2014not as a plot device but as a daily practice requiring vigilance and grace.<\/p>\n

The author resists the temptation to smooth Merritt\u2019s rough edges. She can be defensive, occasionally cruel in her self-protection, and frustratingly unable to accept help even when she desperately needs it. These qualities don\u2019t make her unlikable; they make her human. Wilder understands that mental health recovery isn\u2019t a destination but an ongoing negotiation between who you were, who you are, and who you\u2019re becoming.<\/p>\n

Niko emerges as a revelation in a genre often populated by alpha archetypes. He\u2019s confident without arrogance, talented without ego, and possesses an emotional intelligence that never feels manufactured for convenience. His artistic aspirations run deeper than his day job suggests, and his own insecurities about being seen as merely \u201cthe fun guy\u201d or \u201cthe helpful guy\u201d create a beautiful parallel to Merritt\u2019s struggles with identity. The revelation that he\u2019s dyslexic and channels his creativity through visual art rather than the written word adds layers to his character that extend far beyond romantic interest territory.<\/p>\n

The supporting cast elevates the narrative considerably. Olivia functions as more than the supportive sister\u2014she\u2019s a fully realized person with her own anxieties about impending motherhood and complicated feelings about her sister\u2019s past chaos. Their relationship, marked by deep love and occasional resentment, rings devastatingly true. Dev, Olivia\u2019s husband, provides grounded perspective as a writer himself, understanding the cost of creative ambition. Even minor characters like Daniela, the tarot-reading former ballerina who runs a mystical store, feel textured and purposeful.<\/p>\n

Where the Foundation Cracks<\/h2>\n

Despite its considerable strengths, Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> stumbles in places where structural integrity wavers. The pacing in the middle section drags as community planning meetings and small-town dynamics occasionally overshadow the central romance. While Wilder clearly aims to demonstrate Merritt\u2019s gradual integration into Crested Peak society, some sequences feel more like filler than necessary development. The SummerFest planning committee scenes, though thematically relevant to Merritt finding purpose, don\u2019t always justify their page count.<\/p>\n

The book\u2019s treatment of Merritt\u2019s mother deserves scrutiny. The revelation that she published a thinly veiled novel about Merritt\u2019s breakdown introduces fascinating questions about art, exploitation, and maternal boundaries. However, this subplot never receives the full attention it demands. It\u2019s presented, discussed briefly, and then largely abandoned in favor of other narrative threads. Given the weight of this betrayal in shaping Merritt\u2019s trust issues, the resolution feels insufficient.<\/p>\n

Similarly, the Alan subplot\u2014Merritt\u2019s texting relationship with an older television writer\u2014serves its purpose in demonstrating her avoidance patterns but ultimately feels underdeveloped. When this storyline resolves, it happens with such minimal fanfare that one wonders if it needed to exist at all, or if it should have been given more meaningful consequences.<\/p>\n

The novel\u2019s depiction of small-town life occasionally veers into idealization. While Crested Peak\u2019s quirky residents and supportive community provide crucial healing space for Merritt, the town sometimes feels more like a concept than a place. The darker realities of small-town dynamics\u2014gossip\u2019s corrosive power, the challenges of maintaining boundaries when everyone knows everyone\u2014receive lighter treatment than the subject matter might warrant.<\/p>\n

The Music of Language<\/h2>\n

Wilder\u2019s prose operates on multiple registers simultaneously, achieving a delicate balance between raw emotional honesty and witty observation. Her sentences can cut like broken glass or wrap around you like a warm blanket, depending on what the moment requires. When describing Merritt\u2019s first encounter with Niko in her bathroom\u2014him fixing her shower while she stands there in only a towel\u2014the writing crackles with awkward sexual tension rendered through sharp, economical details.<\/p>\n

In Some Kind of Famous, <\/strong>The author excels at capturing the texture of desire, particularly in how it manifests for someone actively resisting it. Merritt\u2019s observations of Niko catalogue his \u201cgeometrically agreeable\u201d features with the precision of someone trying to intellectualize away attraction. The accumulation of small details\u2014his pocked jaw from teenage acne, his disproportionately large nose, the curl that falls across his forehead\u2014creates intimacy through attention rather than perfection.<\/p>\n

Wilder demonstrates particular strength in dialogue that reveals character through rhythm and evasion. When Merritt and Niko play pool and exchange vulnerabilities through a question game, their conversation dances around deeper truths before gradually spiraling inward. The banter never feels forced or performative; it emerges organically from two intelligent people circling each other, testing boundaries, calibrating trust.<\/p>\n

The dual point of view allows Wilder to explore how perception shapes reality in relationships. Niko\u2019s chapters reveal the insecurity beneath his seemingly easy confidence, while Merritt\u2019s sections expose the exhausting work of maintaining walls against someone determined to see past them. This structural choice particularly shines during their developing physical relationship, where anticipation and miscommunication create authentic sexual tension.<\/p>\n

Themes That Resonate Beyond the Page<\/h2>\n

The Cost of Fame and the Value of Obscurity<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> interrogates celebrity culture with the insight of someone who understands its seductive cruelty. Merritt\u2019s past life emerges through fragments\u2014Rolling Stone covers, paparazzi photos, Wikipedia controversies\u2014creating a mosaic of public consumption and private devastation. Wilder captures how fame can be simultaneously the best and worst thing to happen to someone<\/a>, particularly when that someone is barely old enough to understand the contract they\u2019re signing.<\/p>\n

The choice to set the present-day narrative in a place where Merritt can be mostly anonymous provides crucial commentary on identity formation. Who are you when you\u2019re no longer performing? What parts of yourself survived the machinery of celebrity, and what parts were manufactured for public consumption? These questions permeate every interaction Merritt has with her new community.<\/p>\n

Mental Health as Ongoing Practice<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Perhaps the novel\u2019s greatest achievement lies in its portrayal of mental health recovery as neither linear nor finite. Merritt hasn\u2019t overcome her struggles; she\u2019s learning to live alongside them. Her panic attacks still arrive uninvited. Her impulses toward self-destruction still whisper. The difference is that she now possesses tools, support systems, and most importantly, the humility to recognize when she\u2019s spiraling.<\/p>\n

In Some Kind of Famous, <\/strong>Wilder resists the common romance novel trap of suggesting that love cures mental illness. Niko supports Merritt, but he doesn\u2019t fix her. Their relationship actually complicates her recovery in some ways, introducing new vulnerabilities and triggering old patterns. The author understands that love can be both healing and destabilizing, sometimes simultaneously.<\/p>\n

Art, Creativity, and Silenced Voices<\/strong><\/h4>\n

The parallel between Merritt\u2019s abandoned music career and Niko\u2019s hidden artistic talent creates rich thematic resonance. Both characters possess extraordinary creative gifts that remain largely unexpressed\u2014Merritt from trauma and fear, Niko from a combination of practical necessity and lack of validation. Their mutual recognition of each other\u2019s talents becomes a form of witnessing that gradually gives both permission to reclaim suppressed parts of themselves.<\/p>\n

The book\u2019s exploration of why artists silence themselves\u2014whether through external pressure or internalized shame\u2014adds philosophical depth to what could have been a simpler narrative. Merritt\u2019s journey back toward music doesn\u2019t happen through some dramatic breakthrough; it occurs in incremental steps, private moments where she allows herself to remember who she was before the world told her who to be.<\/p>\n

Technical Craftsmanship<\/h2>\n

Structure and Pacing<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> employs a traditional three-act structure with generally effective pacing, though the middle act suffers from occasional drag. The opening establishes Merritt\u2019s current state and introduces Niko with efficient economy. The developing relationship unfolds through a series of encounters\u2014some professional, some community-oriented, some increasingly personal\u2014that build intensity organically rather than through manufactured drama.<\/p>\n

However, approximately one-third through, the narrative momentum occasionally stalls as Wilder prioritizes world-building over plot progression. The extensive attention to SummerFest planning, while thematically relevant to Merritt\u2019s integration into community life, sometimes feels disproportionate to its narrative payoff. Tighter editing in these sections might have maintained stronger forward motion.<\/p>\n

The third act accelerates effectively, though some readers may find the emotional climax arrives slightly earlier than the actual climax, leaving the final chapters feeling more like extended epilogue than conclusion. The resolution provides satisfying closure without feeling unrealistically tidy, though certain subplots receive abbreviated treatment.<\/p>\n

Point of View Management<\/strong><\/h4>\n

In Some Kind of Famous, <\/strong>Wilder handles the dual perspective with general competence, though the balance occasionally tips unevenly. Merritt receives considerably more interiority and page time than Niko, which makes sense given her more complex psychological landscape but sometimes leaves his perspective feeling underutilized. His chapters provide essential contrast and prevent the narrative from becoming claustrophobic, but they could have been deployed more strategically.<\/p>\n

The author wisely avoids the common pitfall of redundant scenes shown from both perspectives. Each character\u2019s point of view reveals information unavailable to the other, creating dramatic irony and deepening reader understanding of their mutual misperceptions.<\/p>\n

Comparative Context: Ava Wilder\u2019s Literary Evolution<\/h2>\n

For readers familiar with Wilder\u2019s previous novels, Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> represents both continuity and growth. Her debut, How to Fake It in Hollywood<\/strong>, and sophomore effort, Will They or Won\u2019t They<\/strong>, established her as a writer drawn to entertainment industry settings and characters grappling with public personas versus private selves. This third book refines those preoccupations while introducing new thematic complexity.<\/p>\n

Where the earlier novels focused primarily on characters still within Hollywood\u2019s gravitational field, Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> asks what happens when you escape orbit entirely. This shift allows Wilder to explore identity formation without the constant pressure of public scrutiny that defined her previous protagonists. The result feels more emotionally grounded, even as it sacrifices some of the glamorous wish-fulfillment that made those earlier books so addictive.<\/p>\n

The author\u2019s prose has matured considerably, displaying greater confidence in restraint. She trusts her readers to infer emotion from gesture and dialogue rather than over-explaining internal states. The sex scenes demonstrate this evolution particularly well\u2014they\u2019re sensual without being pornographic, emotionally charged without being melodramatic.<\/p>\n

For Readers Seeking Similar Territory<\/h2>\n

If you loved Some Kind of Famous, consider:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Talia Hibbert\u2019s Get a Life, Chloe Brown<\/a><\/strong> \u2013 For another romance featuring a woman recovering from chronic illness learning to embrace life again, with similar wit and emotional depth
\nChristina Lauren\u2019s The Unhoneymooners<\/strong> \u2013 If you appreciated the small-town community dynamics and slow-burn chemistry
\nAlicia Thompson\u2019s Love in the Time of Serial Killers<\/strong> \u2013 For comparable exploration of trauma recovery within a romance framework
\nSarah Hogle\u2019s You Deserve Each Other<\/strong> \u2013 When you want characters who are prickly, complicated, and working through their issues
\nEmily Henry\u2019s Book Lovers<\/a><\/strong> \u2013 For romance that understands career ambition and identity aren\u2019t obstacles to love but essential parts of the journey<\/p>\n

The Verdict: Imperfect but Deeply Felt<\/h2>\n

Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> succeeds more often than it stumbles, delivering an emotionally resonant romance grounded in genuine character development<\/a>. Ava Wilder demonstrates impressive courage in refusing to sanitize mental illness or rush recovery for narrative convenience. While the novel\u2019s middle section could benefit from tighter pacing and certain subplots deserve fuller development, the central relationship between Merritt and Niko provides more than sufficient compensation.<\/p>\n

Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> is not a perfect book, nor does it aspire to be. Its imperfections mirror those of its protagonist\u2014the occasional messiness, the places where ambition exceeds execution, the tendency to sometimes get lost in details. But these flaws feel strangely appropriate for a novel about learning to embrace imperfection, about building a life that\u2019s good enough rather than spectacular.<\/p>\n

What Wilder understands\u2014and what makes this novel ultimately successful\u2014is that healing doesn\u2019t mean erasing your past. It means integrating your experiences, honoring your scars, and learning that vulnerability isn\u2019t weakness but the only path toward authentic connection. Merritt\u2019s journey from isolated ex-celebrity to engaged community member and romantic partner feels earned because Wilder grants her the time and space to genuinely change.<\/p>\n

The romance itself delivers satisfying emotional payoff without sacrificing believability. Merritt and Niko work as a couple because they challenge each other to be braver versions of themselves while accepting each other\u2019s limitations. Their chemistry extends beyond physical attraction into intellectual compatibility and emotional recognition. When they finally come together fully, it feels like relief and inevitability simultaneously\u2014exactly what a well-executed slow burn should achieve.<\/p>\n

For readers seeking romance that treats mental health with respect<\/a>, that understands second chances require genuine work, and that believes ordinary life can hold its own kind of magic, Some Kind of Famous<\/strong> offers abundant rewards. It\u2019s a book about finding harmony not through perfection but through accepting all the discordant notes that make up a human life. Sometimes the most beautiful music emerges not from flawless execution but from the courage to play again after you\u2019ve forgotten how.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There\u2019s something remarkably brave about a book that refuses to romanticize rock bottom. Ava Wilder\u2019s third novel, Some Kind of Famous, arrives as a tender examination of what happens after the spectacular fall\u2014when the cameras stop flashing and you\u2019re left to piece together a life from the fragments of who you used to be. This […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4732","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bookreviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4732"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4732"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4732\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4732"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4732"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4732"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}