I finished three books.
One was a physics book. A physics book with entertaining qualities, but still. A physics book. {Though I'm now dreaming about physics the way I dreamed I was Katniss, so maybe it shouldn't be too discounted.}

And then it had one of the most gripping first paragraphs of any YA book I've read for a while--definitely superior to "When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold." {Speaking of which, still I have not seen it.} I was thinking, "What have I gotten myself into? This book is...disturbing."
Except it's really not. It's has a brilliant plot weaved into itself--everything has a meaning--true characters, a swoon-worthy prince. World-building? Check. Voice? Check. Character development? Check. Unique take on an old story? Check. Romance? Swoon. I read the whole book thinking, "I should just stop writing. I'm never going to come up with something this awesome."
The third book I finished this weekend was Daniel Handler's Why We Broke Up. You've heard of Mr. Handler before, back when he was writing series of unfortunate events as one Lemony Snicket. And while his writing is superb, his character development rather flawless, his voice unique and jaw-dropping...he has not lost the depressive vibe that made The Series of Unfortunate Events, well, unfortunate. This is a depressing book. I finished it and felt like I'd been run through a wringer-washer. {I don't exactly like feeling like I've been rung through a wringer washer.}
And now I'm reading Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover, by Ally Carter. Yes, it's amazing. A little more intense than the others. But amazing nonetheless.
1 comment:
I've been debating about Cinder, now I'll pick it up. Thanks!!
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