A Tinseltown romp
Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous
by Christine Stringer
Toronto: SparkPress, 2025
$25.99 / 9781684633166
Reviewed by Jessica Poon
*

There is a long-standing tradition of characters who fall under the trope of Hot Girl Who Feels Ugly, which is partly because rampant, crippling insecurity does not discriminate based on appearance and partly because North American audiences frequently cannot tolerate genuinely homely characters (unless they have seen a lot of British television). Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous is a pert, lively debut novel that faithfully follows this tradition. From the title alone, one gathers an intentional self-deprecation. Pay attention to the adverb so. The title is not saying Charity Trickett is not glamorous; rather, the title indicates Charity Trickett is at least a little bit glamorous.
As the personal assistant to Casper, an exalted director, Charity works long hours and is on friendly terms with Blake Anthony, the biggest star. When we first meet Charity, she’s preparing to surprise her boyfriend, Duke, who later describes her as a “part time girlfriend.” As is customary with heterosexual relationships whereupon the woman spontaneously decides to surprise her man, Charity’s salaciously intended surprise results in discovering Duke’s infidelity with a woman bearing resemblance to Sophia Loren. By comparison, Charity feels like a troll, though the reader knows that’s not actually the case but rather, an instance of that nebulous quality of “relatability.”
When Casper suggests that Charity move from Vancouver to LA to continue working for him, being freshly Duke-less, she says yes to her new, ostensibly glamorous life. But being an esteemed personal assistant and aspiring screenwriter moving to Los Angeles is not 24/7 glamour—far from it. There are a few snags, like being tasked with illegal activities or picking up her boss’s dog from a neutering procedure at the veterinarian. In Charity’s line of work, saying no is a deterrent to being hired and retaining your job, as exemplified in this line: “If we can’t support their vision, we won’t get hired.”

Meanwhile, Charity’s nemesis, Saffron, behaves as though she’s Charity’s superior, even though she isn’t. Saffron is delightfully mean, relishing in subtle cruelty. For instance, complimenting Charity’s make-up application skills as a dig against Charity’s face without skillful artifice, or assigning Charity superfluous, time-consuming tasks. There’s also Charity’s instant and growing attraction to Kai, an executive personal assistant Charity describes as though he’s “seen my perfect-man checklist and has made it his mission to lick all my boxes. I mean, tick all my boxes.” And there are genuine moments of glamour, like when Blake Anthony ships her a kimono from Japan. Taking place in 1997, this largely lighthearted book benefits from chapter titles that are all an homage to a Nineties pop cultural phenomenon.
As an aspiring screenwriter, Charity’s longterm goal isn’t to continue on as Casper’s personal assistant. In a stroke of fortuitousness, Charity meets Vivy Parker, a beloved actress, in the bathroom—one whose boyfriend is blatantly cheating on her. Charity, having recently experienced a similar upset, forms a fast friendship with Vivy. They share a kiss for the paparazzi, to their mutual benefit—the actress appears to have moved on from her cheating boyfriend, and Charity receives a major publicity boost and elevated status, much to the ire of Saffron.
The role of cronyism in the novel is realistic. Characters who presumably have expertise in recognizing a worthwhile screenplay, repeatedly tell Charity how talented she is, but make no mistake, there is no meritocracy in Hollywood. It’s not only who you know—talent plays a role—but it does exert outsized influence.
There is no streak of good fortune that goes unbroken, of course. Charity experiences real hardship when she is exposed to blatant misogyny, death threats, and the financial precarity that is par for the course in the film industry. After following Casper’s orders, the FBI investigates Charity, potentially jeopardizing her career and her life. Will she have to move back to Vancouver? Will she be able to retain the vestigial glamor in her life that she currently has? Is Kai as dreamy as he seems? Truthfully, there is not much suspense in the novel, but that’s not what this novel is for. This novel is an entertaining romp in a world most people only wish they could be a part of—and now they can, vicariously through Charity.
Where Vancouver-based Christine Stringer’s novel succeeds most is in capturing the irrepressible youth, hope, and need for external validation endemic to striving twentysomethings. She also writes about lust with an irreverent touch. Most importantly, Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous is fun and bubbly, the novel equivalent of a glass of Prosecco, a treat for everyone who not so secretly believes the Nineties was the best decade ever.

*

Originally from East Vancouver, Jessica Poon is a writer, former line cook, and pianist of dubious merit who recently returned to BC after completing a MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph. [Editor’s note: Jessica interviewed Sheung-King, and recently reviewed books by Faye Arcand, Liann Zhang, Sarah Leavitt, Jeff Dupuis and A.G. Pasquella, Angela Douglas, Zazie Todd, Holly Brickley, Alastair McAlpine, and Jack Wang for BCR.]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors, 2023-26: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
“Only connect.” –E.M. Forster