DNF. This review isn't on the content of the story because I couldn't overlook the writing style. This is why I always give a 3 star review for all books that I did not finish. Obviously the book is not for me, so I will not penalize the author over this. I will, however, post a review stating why I did not finish for those reading reviews, deciding whether or not they should purchase the book. Perhaps they enjoy what I do not, or find issue with similar things as I do. 
 After seeing the amount of 5 star reviews for Vain, and then reading my friends' reviews, I just knew I must read this book. My Paperwhite and I were going to spend an evening immersed in imagination land. 
 I was wrong. 
 The writing style wasn't for me, to the point that I couldn't even concentrate on the storyline. The overuse of adjectives kept jarring me from the story. It's a rooky mistake; one I was notorious for when I began writing, so I'm not judging. But since I see how annoying it is when I read it, I tend to make sure I don't overuse it any longer in my own writing. I don't want to read books like that, either. Every word doesn't need a modifier. The word can just mean what it means. 
 ... and then the true issue materialized. Over-description, and I don't mean person, place, or thing. Many a reader complains about authors who write every little detail: buttons on the shirt, the weave in the fabric, the color of the sofa, and the paint strokes on a wall. Skim-worthy details. This isn't the case. I mean the over-description of action. Every. Single. Action. It is written out as if I am too unimaginative to figure it out on my own. 
 I first noticed it during dialogue. I was pulled from what the character was trying to express because they were always fidgeting, or doing this or that, as if their actions were somehow more important than the words they were using. No, their words, and the meaning behind them, should be the focal point. I ignored this the best I could, until the 8% mark. I groaned, literally groaned, and then closed my Kindle. 
 The shower scene. It was meant to be highly emotional for the main character. We were meant to feel her pain(?) but all I was given was a laundry list of actions: turning the water on, washing her hair, conditioning her hair, shaving her legs. When she was finished, stepping from the shower to the floor, grabbing her robe, wrapping her robe around her, grabbing a towel, wrapping the towel around her hair. Moisturizing her entire body. 
 Here is the excerpt that made me stop reading. If I edited this, I would have removed the action, cleaned up the sentence structure by removing run-on sentences or adding commas and semicolons (a few sentences I've read a few times over, even after copy/pasting it, and I'm lost), I then would have had the author expand on the emotions the character was feeling. I was distracted by the day-to-day actions, to the point that the story itself was lost down the drain with the soap suds. 
 Note: the entire book reads like the passage beneath. 
 been because it was the only life I knew. I bawled for at least half an hour before washing and conditioning my hair and shaving my legs and even then the tears continued, but I had a job to do that night and damn if I was going to have bags underneath my eyes. My dad would faint, or the male equivalent, anyway. I needed sleep. Life will continue on. Everyone will continue their worship of you. Just keep up appearances. Just keep up. When I was done and sufficiently under control of my emotions, I shut off the water and stepped onto the heated marble beneath my feet. Reaching for my robe, I wrapped it around my body and grabbed a towel for my hair. I sat at the edge of my vanity in my room and moisturized my entire body with the five-hundred-dollar-an-ounce moisturizer my mother insisted I used. By then, sleepiness was attempting to claim me. I was too tired to dress in pajamas so I just slipped under the covers donning my robe and the towel still wrapped around my head. Sleep came easily. It always did. It was a true safe haven from the hell I'd created for myself. 
 I was thrown by the first person inner monologue that changed to third person: the use of I vs you. I bolded the text above to note my confusion. 
 I'm pretty sure the male equivalent of fainting... is FAINTING. It is what it is. If she meant swoon(feminine) vs fainting(masculine) then that would have made more sense. 
 I read, therefore I have a highly active imagination. I don't need you to tell me every little action. I've bathed for 35 years. If you are walking from A to D, I don't need to read actions B & C because I know how to walk. 
 This type of writing yanks me from the story, murders the fluidity... and that is why I did not finish Vain before I even got an inkling of what the story entailed. Any and all connection I could have forged with the main character was lost because it was more important to show me their actions instead of allowing their voice, their words, and their emotions to pull me in and capture me. 
 My attempt in reading and absorbing the content of this book was in vain.