I picked up this book expecting a heartwarming story about women bonding over fancy yarn and clacking needles. Instead, the novel, determined to show an edgier side of knitting, meandered, struggled to find its voice and ultimately fell flat. Jacobs also sprinkled the text with mild profanity and occasionally the f-word.
The characters, although unconventional knitters, were cliché – the feminist grad student torn between family and idealism, a single mom struggling as an ex-boyfriend returns to build a relationship with their daughter, and a shallow New York socialite in a loveless marriage.
Unattached to the characters and annoyed by the lack of a cohesive story, I finally put it down, like so many of my own knitting projects, unfinished.