Love With A Chance Of Drowning By Torre DeRoche

Okay, let me start out by saying: I LOVE this book. Love with a Chance of Drowning is hands-down one of my favorite books of all time. And I’ve read a lot of travel memoirs.

I love Torre’s writing style, she’s fucking hilarious, and the prose is so incredibly engaging. Her ability to weave in callbacks (without being cheesy or obnoxious about it) and her descriptive and playful language make this a fun, fast-paced, entertaining but poignant read. Torre’s writing made me homesick for places I’ve never been, and I found myself frequently stopping to research places that they visited because I couldn’t fathom that the reality matched her description (spoiler alert: it does).

I’ve become a travel memoir fiend, but I often find my interest waning at about the halfway point. Even with seminal writers like Bill Bryson, I get a little bit… over it? Knowing that most of this book would take place on a tiny boat, I steeled myself in anticipation of the “middle of the book” monotony, but it never happened.

Love with a Chance of Drowning avoids insufferable travel memoir tropes

I loved the fact that the author showed rather than told her character and personality throughout Love With a Chance of Drowning. A major trope I see in the “upper-middle-class white girl travels for a while” memoir genre is the cringe-worthy insistence on establishing themselves as some sort of broken bird, often through overbearing or divorced parents. Torre didn’t do this: she didn’t “blame” her wanderlust on some reaching childhood difficulty. She didn’t throw her parents under the bus to create some transparent, woe-is-me exposition. She didn’t need to be “lost” in order to find herself.

I also liked that her and Ivan’s relationship was a significant theme in the book, but it wasn’t the whole book. And their relationship was genuine: they fought, joked, and had tense moments. He didn’t “complete” her, and she didn’t need him to. The character growth she undergoes happens alongside him, but not because of him, and that’s so damned delightful and refreshing.

Another element of the book that I appreciated was Torre’s ability to engage with other travelers and locals in an earnest, respectful, and interesting way. A lot of travel memoirs lend themselves to some pretty tiresome navel-gazing, but Torre and Ivan were very clearly open to trying new cultures, making new friends, and living the life of real people in the places they stayed.

Love with a Chance of Drowning is not a love story

The only thing I didn’t love was, and I hate to say it, was the boyfriend, Ivan. Not only was he careless to the point of repeatedly putting both of their lives at risk, but he also came across as having some pretty obvious anger problems. You could sense the cracks in their relationship throughout Love With a Chance of Drowning, and it truly was sad to read because you really want them to work out despite their fundamental differences, but you’re constantly reminded that they may not ultimately be compatible.

This book has stuck with me over the years as one of my most enduring favorites, and I devoured her sequel, which covers the loss of her father and her relationship. It seems like Torre Deroche is no longer as active as she once was, which is unfortunate because I really enjoy her writing. Her blog hasn’t been updated since 2017, sadly.

I’m always interested in what compels successful people to walk away from their success. As a new blogger, it’s tempting to assume that I would be so excited to have published books and a recognized blog presence, but you never know what people are going through. I hope she’s doing well and look forward to reading any subsequent books she plans to put out.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to devour everything else Torre has ever written. And look into buying a boat.