Late winter is the coldest time of the year for me—with the novelty of snow days worn off and the magical holidays over, I’m tired of ice, tired of looking out the windows seeing the grass (from the inevitable unseasonable warm snap melting snow) and sun and outside *looking* like it should be warm, when in reality it would be lucky if it’s 40 degrees. Late February through April are when I’m most hit with the urge to read beachy books.
I’ve learned the hard way, through googling for book recommendations, that my definition of a beach read is far more literal than the widely accepted version! I’m not looking for books to read on a beach; I’m looking for books set on beaches, on the seas, in tropical climates. I’m looking for seasonal escapism.
Last year, I lucked out majorly with a book that I found: Float Plan by Trish Doller.
It’s in that genre so contemptuously described as “chick lit,” a contemporary romance—which is, admittedly, not my usual jam (from around second grade through middle school, I was basically on a highly concentrated IV dose of Sweet Valley High novels, and have found that no adult romance novels can truly compare to the majesty that was SVH lunacy).
The gist of the book: Anna and her fiancé planned to sail together around the Caribbean in his sailboat, but before that could happen, he killed himself. Grieving and trying to put her life back together, on an impulse Anna decides to take the trip as scheduled, solo. This is a bad idea—she’s not an experienced enough sailor—so, she ends up hiring a pro to help her. (The guy she hires is handsome and dreamy, natch, with his own emotional wounds.) Together, they sail all over the Caribbean in a story of healing and learning and self-sufficiency and adventure.
It was the travel aspect that drew me to the book—I wanted a sailing vacation, and if vicarious was the best I could get, then I’d take it!
I preordered the book from a local indie, and once it finally arrived eagerly read the beginning. The writing was smooth, the right amount of descriptive to really lure me in. But it was too special to be read on my couch. I rarely do this for books, but for this one, I developed a reading routine.
I would only read it during afternoons, at the warmest part of the day, on the odd late March/early April days where the high was in the 60s. I’d read during that glimpse of false spring, on a blanket in my yard in the sun (moving to chase the sun and warmth when the shadows lengthened). There’s a candle store near here that lets you mix your own perfume—I went there and created the most over-the-top beachy, salt watery, coconut oceanic creation I could. First thing I’d do before taking my book outside would be to give the paperback a spritz or two of the beach perfume, for sensory immersion.
It was glorious. The book really gets into the nitty gritty of sailing, without reading like a sailing manual. The setting descriptions were just the right amount for me, giving me enough to savor without it ever feeling repetitive. The book left me both feeling like I had traveled the Caribbean, and desperate to go and do it for myself for real.
I suppose I should also talk about the book’s actual plot, though! Both of the characters were really likable, and their relationship (from employer-employee to sailing mentor-mentee to friendship to more) developed at a really natural pace. They were delightful together, and the way they healed and grew as people fit naturally into the way their relationship developed.
I don’t actually have that beloved, still likely slightly scented of salt and sea and sunscreen paperback novel anymore. I passed it along to share it with someone who passed it along as well and… Well, the copy might return to me some day. If it doesn’t, I’ll just grab another copy when I’m ready to read it again.
But, March again is hitting hard with the desire for a beachy-set book. Doller has a “sequel” of sorts for Float Plan, this time starring Anna’s sister, and set Lakeside in Ohio. While it’s not the saltwater and open ocean that I crave, Float Plan was good enough that I’ll give The Suite Spot a try also—preordered, again, as pre-orders *really* help both authors and your local bookshops.
I’ll also, though, always be hunting for oceanic escapism during the days when spring seems permanently stuck at tomorrow and winter’s icy fingers refuse to weaken their grasp.