Okay? Okay.

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reviewing books that aren’t exactly “new”. Yes, I love reading the latest and greatest. But sometimes the “greatest” are books that have been around for a while. People have either forgotten about them or they never even crossed their reading radar. And some books were just ignored because a movie was made. A movie that, while good, didn’t quite capture the full feel of things. And I like to feel things. Just ask my family…

Anyways.

When The Fault In Our Stars was published in 2012, I didn’t really pay much attention to the book; until I began to see quotes from the novel continually pop up in my Tumblr feed (yes, I was on Tumblr—don’t judge me). Each of these quotes seemed like such perfect one-liners, and I really am a sucker for those. They’re like pick-up lines for books, just begging to be read. But the one that really snagged my attention was this:

“That’s the thing about pain…it demands to be felt.”

And I suddenly needed to read this book that had managed in only ten words, to frame a concept that would take me at least a page to fully convey.

Yes, this is a love story. But it’s the type of love story that explores the realities of life and loss, and all the pain that goes along with it, and it doesn’t exclude teenagers from understanding what that means. I’ve always held distaste for the belief that young people couldn’t possibly know what love is. I rather like to think they do, that they simply jump in with both feet because they haven’t been burned enough times to know better. If every adult relationship we entered into weren’t tainted with the memory of the ones that failed or the heavy understanding of the work that it takes to maintain a good one, wouldn’t we too be blinded by the overwhelming euphoria of undamaged love? But what makes Hazel and Gus so captivating is that there are no delusions of grandeur. They both know that oblivion is inevitable and that one or both of them isn’t going to survive.

One of the many elements that I enjoy about Green’s writing is that he takes these characters and makes them so damn likable that you wonder if they’re even human. And then he throws in a flaw that so firmly roots them in humanity that you can’t help but like them even more for their faults. Gus is brilliant, charming, clever, and in love with our girl; he’s also got a touch of narcissism that rings true of the boy who knows he could have it all—if only he’d live. And while you can’t blame him for wanting a full extraordinary life, you want to tell him to make the most of what’s left, which is exactly what Hazel does,

“This is all you get. You get me, and your family, and this world. This is your life.”

One of the biggest complaints that people have of the book is that the dialogue often seems too sophisticated for teenagers and that it makes the characters unbelievable. But when you consider that these are kids who spend most of their time with parents and doctors, or alone in their rooms with books like ‘An Imperial Affliction’, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to me that they’re using words not usually found in the average teen’s vernacular. I would also argue that the dialogue and language used throughout are one of the reasons why this book is so appealing across the board. And really, let’s not forget the sarcasm and gallows humor that pervades this entire novel. Personally, I believe that any book that can make me laugh out loud and keep me snickering through my tears deserves my recurring attention. Green is the poster child for using language to drive home the impact of a tale.

I’m not in the habit of highlighting quotes in my books, but if I did, these would be in bright, bold neon:

“I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.”

“Grief does not change you…It reveals you.”

“The marks humans leave are too often scars.”

“And then there are books…which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising that affection feels like a betrayal.”

“I was thinking about the word handle, and all the unholdable things that get handled.”

“Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”

“You gave me a forever within the numbered days.”

“All I know of heaven and all I know of death is in this park: an elegant universe in ceaseless motion, teeming with ruined ruins and screaming children.”

“We’re as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we’re not likely to do either.”

Oh my god. Just go buy the book.

Cracking the Glass

Many of you know that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. And with only two days left until we jump into June, I wanted to share this book with you.

Is it new? Is it exciting? Not by a long shot. What it is: relevant. As someone caught in the daily clutches of CPTSD, clinical depression, and severe anxiety, this is a book I return to time and again. Because it gets me. And I see so many of my own inner demons in Esther Greenwood.

These topics—especially concerning society and sex and the expectations put upon women AND men—are as important today as they were 50 years ago. And just because it’s not smacking you in the face with the obvious stick, doesn’t mean that mental illness isn’t hiding in those near and dear to your heart.

So the next time you’re wandering your favorite bookstore, stop by that stack of featured classics. Grab yourself a copy of this book, step into the world of a woman battling with her mind and society, and see what resonates. And if you find some familiarity in that proverbial bell jar, know that you are not alone. You can crack the glass. You can even shatter it. There is always a way to break free.

Pure Genius

What are your favorite book series? One of many personal favorites is the Pure trilogy.
I remember the first time I read Pure. I was pulling my hair out over the fact that I did not have the next book in the series right-here-right-now. Talk about frustration! Even after my second read-through I just couldn’t get enough.

Julianna Baggott is a master world-builder. Her post-apocalyptic world is phenomenally created and is my favorite aspect of these books with their mix of raw brutality and the stark beauty of humanity fighting to exist. From world history to creature construction, there is no stone left unturned. I enjoyed the way Baggott deals with world history by weaving truth, rumor, and speculation in and throughout the dialogue and character interaction.

While beautifully written, there is a dark savagery that pushes the grotesque and uncomfortable into the face of the reader, so this isn’t one I would suggest for those without a strong stomach or on the younger side of the YA spectrum. But it certainly is a book series that I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest to readers and writers alike—for anyone looking for a unique take on a rather overdone trend of dystopian teen saviors.

A Tale of Two Nations

Let’s talk about Pachinko.

There are so many things to love about this book. From a historical context, it’s fascinating. I was already aware of the history between Korea and Japan, and the impacts that still hold to this day. But I was curious to know more. As a recommendation from a Korean friend to find a better understanding of this relationship between the two nations, I can say that it did not disappoint. It’s richly detailed, and Min Jin Lee certainly knows how to pull you into another time and place.


**Warning: SPOILERS ahead!**


What I did not like about this book is that while there is so much history and familial details to get lost in, you’re never given enough time with any one character to really develop a connection. It’s almost as though all the things I love about the book, smother the opportunity for character development. Because a story like this isn’t just about the political and historical climate of those eras—it’s supposed to be about the lives of those in the thick of it. And yet just when you’re getting a feel for a character, the chapter literally ends with their death. And this happens again and again. True to life? Perhaps. But when I read, I want to actually care about the characters, and I was never given the chance to do that.

Is it worth reading? Absolutely! But read it to broaden your knowledge of a tempestuous relationship between two nations, because those are the two characters that truly rule this story.

Side note: I’ve said this maybe five times in my life, but the tv adaptation of Pachinko is amazing and I daresay, better than the book. All the flaws that I struggled with in the book were handled beautifully. The characters are nuanced and richly developed, and cinematically it’s just stunning. Check it out on Apple TV.

Here be Monsters

A few posts back I promised to post some short reviews. Although not something new, (but certainly treasured) I’ll start with this little gem.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors. I randomly picked up Smoke and Mirrors when I was a teen and instantly fell in love. The man’s way with words is just…*swoon*. I have loved every book written by Gaiman, and I readily admit I’m biased. So if you’re looking for impartiality on this particular book, you won’t find it here.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is childhood bound in words. You cannot read this book without seeing the world again through your own seven-year-old eyes. You’ll remember the wonder, the magic, the fear and hesitation. And you’ll be reminded that for all the whimsy found in your imagination, there were also monsters in the darkness that tried to lure you in. Was it all real or just pretend?

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are things people are scared of. Some of them are things that look like things people used to be scared of a long time ago. Sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren’t.”

This book is short, and packed full of loveliness that will leave you thinking for days. You’ll reminisce and consider. You’ll hurt and you’ll smile. Really, please, just give it a go.
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