Living with someone like Len makes me feel any attempt at a literary critiques is redundant. Len is a ‘reader’… I just read. If I’m not enjoying a book, I don’t feel compelled to finish it. If I don’t think it’s well written, I won’t be able to tell you exacatly why I feel that way; but *I’ll* know why. If it’s not well written, but I like the story, I can continue reading… I’m no book-snob.
That being said, I am in the middle of a book that I can’t put down. Although it’s been around for a while and you’ve most likely either read it or have decided not to read it, I recommend you read it.
You will ‘enjoy’ reading it, but hate turning each page… you’ll know that you can’t ‘not’ keep going. I haven’t finished yet, but can hardly put it down. It is harrowing to know it is a true story and that *any* child had to endure what he did. It will make you angry; it might make you cry. It will make you hold your children tighter and longer when they come to you for a hug. You will stroke their hair even more tenderly when they stand close to you...it will even make you question yourself if/when you ever get frustrated around your babies. It will heighten your sense of ‘justice/fairness’ in relation to loving each of your children to the same degree. And you will look at every child you pass on the street, stand next to in a store, coach on a team, watch climbing onto a bus… and you will search their eyes for tell-tale signs that all is well in their world. It will wake up the Moma Bear in you!!
It is painful to do so, but it is a must to read.
Let me know if/when you’ve read it. What did you think?
