A title like The Lonely Hearts Trivia Night could easily drift into coyness, but this one sounds more precise than that. I suspect there is real social observation under the charm.
That is usually the difference between a novel I merely tolerate and one I actually admire. If a writer understands that comedy is often embarrassment wearing a better dress, the whole thing gains texture.
I also like books built around small public rituals, the pub night, the committee meeting, the gathering where everyone arrives pretending to be composed. Those settings give novelists wonderful opportunities to expose vanity, tenderness, and low-grade panic in the same scene.
If this book is as sharp as it sounds, it may be one of those modern novels that earns affection by refusing to beg for it.
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