Due to the popularity of my live reading posts for 50 Shades of Grey, I will be doing the same for the next two books (which I actually don’t know the titles of). Someone suggested I create a Twitter just for my comments, but that account would just die after this week so there’s no point. But I will be spreading out my commentary beyond just my Facebook page.
Twitter, Google+ and Facebook friends, prepare yourselves.
I’m also considering doing this for the movie when I see it this weekend. It wouldn’t really be “live” since I won’t be on my phone during the movie, but I will be taking notes for my review for District. I can spam social media with tidbits for a couple hours while I write my review, right?
I know you’re all really looking forward to it, so I will try not to disappoint you.
If you haven’t had the chance to read my 13 Thoughts on 50 Shades of Grey, shame on you.
I don’t typically read literary fiction unless a class requires it. The stakes never seem high enough, the characters don’t interest me, and I get to the end of each page wondering why I should go on to the next.
You’d think I’d be just as unfazed by The Spinning Heart by Donal Ryan–I don’t know anything about contemporary Ireland, or the financial collapse of the country. I’m also not familiar with Irish vernacular. How could I possibly read this book?
Each chapter puts us into the mind of a different character, slowly widening our view of how each person contributed to each other’s misery. A mother loves one child more than the other; that child grows into the most detestable boss; that boss hires the man everyone wishes they were; it never ends. And that’s what sets it apart from others in the genre. It reads more like a thriller.
Plenty of characters think about killing those who have sleighted them, and their violent daydreams are chilling. One moment Trevor talks about painting a woman’s window sills, the next he’s envisioning plunging his screwdriver into her eye. And then he wants the public to believe his mother is a witch so they won’t arrest him for murdering her.
Each chapter is full of wonderful things like that–things you might consider too exciting to exist in literary fiction. Maybe this book is too exciting for the genre. Or maybe I just haven’t read much literary fiction that I’ve enjoyed. Whatever the case may be, this book is well worth the read. It’s also the first book to bear my official stamp of approval!