The last post that was not a piece of fiction from me was a tad on the depressing side, so, I figured I’d spin the mood around and deliver something happy while I sort out my shit.
Because, even if I talk like it is, complain, the world is not all darkness and fire—neither is it unicorns and the first bite of an apple on a summer evening as the sun goes down—but there are moments, even if they are fleeting, where one can raise their hands to the sky and say “this, this is the meaning of it all. Right here. Right now.” Continue reading
Another year, another set of books I read. Here are reviews of some of them.
My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick
Now, let it be known that I don’t like romantic comedies—with a few exceptions (2015’s Man Up and 2013’s Not Another Happy Ending being my weaknesses—Simon Pegg and Karen Gillan are joys). I just cannot get into them. And, as a guy, I’m not expected to do so. But, for whatever reason, I read a lot of romance novels. Blame it on me liking Paper Towns by John Green so much, I guess. In any case, I ended up reading both this and one of its sequels, The Boy Most Likely To, and found them both strong in the same way: realistic, lived-in characters—even with a huge cast—and surprisingly complex moral dilemmas. The characters end up facing huge, realistic gray morality conundrums, and though the solutions for them are not perhaps what the audience wants (and might be a little too neat and clean), it is still a compelling puzzler for how a person would deal with them up until that point. And, for that, and some genuinely sweet romantic moments, it is worth a recommendation if romance novels are your thing. Continue reading