Book Review: We Could Be Magic by Sarah N. Roshan
There’s something undeniably enchanting about the idea of an amusement park romance, especially when it’s set against the backdrop of a fantastical world reminiscent of Disneyland. When I stumbled upon We Could Be Magic by Sarah N. Roshan, it promised a whimsical foray into love and dreams. However, while the premise had me ready to dive into cotton candy skies and heartwarming moments, I found myself landing somewhere between starry-eyed wonder and reality-check disillusionment.
At its heart, We Could Be Magic follows Tabi, a young girl stepping into the realm of park employees, who is convinced that working in such a "magical" place will fulfill her childhood dreams. This setting was one of the standout aspects for me. The behind-the-scenes perspective of an amusement park is a unique lens through which to view not only Tabi’s aspirations but also the harsh truths lurking beneath the pixie-dusted surface. I genuinely appreciated this angle—it’s not often we get to see the grind behind the glitter, and I was eagerly anticipating how this would shape Tabi’s growth throughout the story.
Tabi’s romance with her co-worker is sweet, and I found myself rooting for them as their relationship developed against the backdrop of joy and chaos. Their connection felt genuine, which, honestly, kept me engaged even when other aspects of the story faltered. However, I found myself frustrated by the lack of depth in their backgrounds; they seldom discuss their lives outside of the park, leaving a gap that prevented me from fully understanding who they are as individuals.
Now, onto the nitty-gritty. The story struggles fundamentally with its representation of the realities of park working conditions—a stark contrast to how Tabi and her love interest idealize their surroundings. This glorification felt uncomfortable, leading to moments where the narrative seemed tone-deaf to hard truths about labor. As someone aware of the behind-the-scenes stories from places like Disneyland, I hoped for a deeper exploration of Tabi’s disillusionment, but the story never quite went there.
I also grappled with character arcs that felt somewhat shallow. There were moments that hinted at deeper conflicts—such as Tabi’s realization about the lack of representation in her dreams of becoming a princess—but these were glossed over rather than fleshed out. The pacing sometimes felt rushed, particularly in how Tabi’s challenges unfolded with a convenient twist that left me dissatisfied as a reader. Small details, like an overly chirpy wish for a penny, made me roll my eyes rather than smile.
Ultimately, despite my criticisms, We Could Be Magic captures a delightful summer vibe that might appeal to younger readers or those seeking light-hearted escapism. Its charm lies in its ability to transport you to a world of whimsy, even if it sometimes fails to tackle the complexities of reality. If you’re drawn to stories that explore first loves against a backdrop of glitter and dreams, this book might just be your next magical adventure.
While I may not have loved this one as much as I’d hoped, I’m grateful for the experience it provided—sometimes, the magic lies in the journey and the conversations we have about it afterward. So, if you’re looking for some enchanting vibes and a sweetness that captures the essence of summer, We Could Be Magic could be a fun escape!