Yesterday this was me:
(Girl sits on porch during thunderstorm, her feet propped up on the iron railing. She has a book in her hand and three tears running down her cheek.)
*closes book*
*sighs*
*reopens book and rereads last three pages*
*sighs*
(Boy has been sitting in chair next to her, asleep. He hears book close and tries to pretend like he was awake the whole time.)
Boy: So was the book good?
Girl: It was…hmmm. *brushes away tears*
Boy: It was sad?
Girl: Well, it ended happy. I guess.
Boy: Hmmm. Want to ride bikes?
~~~
So then I went on a rainy bike ride and thought about the book and lived happily ever after (or something like that).
I guess I was a little disappointed.
I mean, I liked the book.
I liked the characters (for the most part).
I even dragged reading the book out, so it wouldn’t end.
But I just didn’t feel it all the way.
It’s like that date with your dream guy, only to find out he has chronic bad breath and he’s kinda mean to his dog. A lot of people would look over stuff like that because he’s hott, but I just didn’t feel like settling for anything less than I hoped for.
So I take back Wednesday’s post about being in love. I was almost in love.
I had a good time, book. It’s me, not you.
But it was a good book. Just not AH-MAY-ZING.
So, thanks to the great advice of agent Mary Kole, I will not reveal this book’s title, since I’m not saying the nicest things about it. But I will ask you if you’ve ever been really moved by a book that then let you down, resulting in you almost crying. (Well, maybe crying a little.) Or am I just too emotionally invested in the books I read? (Probably.) And I know I got your hopes up on Wednesday that I was going to reveal this super-amazing wonder-book, so I’m sorry–I will never again assume I’m in love until a book is good and over.
Anyways, I’m so over it. Hope you had an amazing weekend!!! Let me know if you found the one book…
-M♥lly
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