You know those books... the ones where you read just one and a half chapters on the bus on your way to work - and then try not to think about the book for the rest of the day? The novels that that look so demure-just slim bits of paper & twine-but have the power to slice into your heart? The ones that so effortlessly intertwine beautifully captured "moments of non-being" and stunning intertextuality they leave you breathless? Those ones that were so well written--you just know that "existentially fraught free throws" will change how you view the world? The novels you rush home to, deciding it's ok to take a break from normal human activities like drinking water and stuff? Ones where you fall for the main character(s) so fast and then are left sobbing in the dark but it was all so beautiful that you're grateful for the pain? And then you're reminded all over again why you love to read?
Yah...I just finished one of those books.