It’s an unwritten rule that in order to fully enjoy a book, you must sympathize with and/or like the story’s main character — or any one of the book’s characters, for that matter. Without that connection, you have a very uninspired read ahead of you. Why am I saying this? Oh, no reason.

When to Walk by Rebecca Gowers chronicles a week in the life of our heroine, Ramble, just after her husband has walked out on her. The story is not so much about Ramble taking action and picking up the pieces, as it is about her contemplating and analyzing past and present. She is a travel writer of sorts — a self-proclaimed hack. She writes about various exotic holiday destinations, fun festivals and vacation spots, and she does so without ever leaving the street where she lives by utilizing the local library and the Internet. She lives in a rented flat with her husband, Con. When we first meet Con, he is in the process of delivering a “Dear Jane” letter to Ramble in person, referring to her as both an “autistic vampire” and “impossible” and informing her that their marriage has become “defunct.” What a charmer. He takes off, and Ramble is left trying to process what has happened. The week that follows involves Ramble re-thinking her relationships with her husband and family, putting off the writing assignment that is due and awkwardly spending time with her downstairs neighbour Mrs. Shaw, whose petty-criminal husband was last seen with Con upon his departure.

In Ramble, Rebecca Gowers has created a character who is surrounded by interesting people, yet she completely lacks this quality. The story is told through Ramble and her interactions with these people, and I can’t help but think that I’d much rather be seeing things through these other characters’ eyes. While a somewhat sympathetic character (Ramble has a pelvic deformity that hinders her ability to walk without pain, she is a woman scorned, etc.), she lacks a compelling personality. The story is interesting enough, but sadly it’s made less so by the inability to connect the reader with Ramble. The story may not have made much sense, but would have been more interesting if it had been told by Ramble’s senile grandmother, Stella.