So here’s a brilliant post beyond a book review (indeed the book is never mentioned) – it’s more paean to our relationship with books and their characters. It’s not just some arm-length love of books, we are wholly invested in them as we read.
I read something like this and question why I even bother posting – well done.
I’ve been in a crazy reading mood of late, but no matter how many books I read, nothing has really had that ‘wow’ factor I’ve been looking for. That all changed today with a seemingly innocent book I picked up on a whim from the local library. Torn and tattered (not to mention, suspiciously stained), there was nothing about the cover that drew my attention. Indeed, not even the blurb was that fabulous. But it was the title that drew me in. It read almost poetically, really, and it jogged a memory, since the moment I saw the paperback sitting on the shelves, I remembered hearing a number of recommendations in the past from other fellow book-lovers to give it a go.
So I did.
Well, honestly? I feel like someone’s taken a cheese grater and shredded my veins. I think I’m metaphorically bleeding emotion. That’s just how gripping this book was…
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