Book Review: The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Hedgehog_cdBox_OT

 

It’s been 20 minutes since I finished this book. It took me that long to begin reviewing it because it struck a chord inside me, one that rendered me lifeless and contemplative in bed for 15.

Oh yes, it’s that kind of book.

The phrase that best depicted Elegance, which I found tucked in the pages of praise before the title, was “Light yet erudite.” … And goodness, the truth in that statement!

Let’s begin by saying that Elegance is no ordinary novel — the language is deeply profound for a work of fiction written and set in a modern time period. Second, the plot’s beautifully simplistic, the setting never straying from a pompous hotel in France that just might trigger a growth of disdain for Parisian elite in even the kindest reader. Third, the alternating voices in which it’s written are inescapably charming and, at times, painfully honest.

Renee, the 54 year-old concierge, is a sort of philosophical goddess. (Hey, what do you expect from a book written by a French philosopher herself?) The problem is she’s a concierge in Paris, only a speck of dust in the book’s galaxy of rich aristocrats.

So she plays dumb. Renee is shrewd but insecure; her detectors light up at the slightest hint of beauty but burn at the ugliness of humanity.

Paloma, a 12-year old suicidal daughter of a hotel tenant, starts a journal of the “movement of the world” and “profound thoughts” — all neat, twisted little essays both justifying her hunger for suicide and search for something beautiful to eradicate that hunger.

The result is magical.

The story alternates in perspectives of Renee and Paloma, their very genuine chapters ranging from a sentence to 20 pages. Eventually, a Japanese man swoops in, capturing the hearts of anyone that chances to catch a glimpse of that crinkly smile.

It’s so very delicious — if you’re the reader type that gobbles up books with deeper, satisfying, lasting meanings, then Elegance is for you.

I must admit: sometimes, this book is practically a compilation of essays with a loose plot. I must also admit: These essays are incredibly well done. They explain the obvious things and emotions that we all get and dissect them but with outstanding delicacy and, well, elegance.

 

Src: le-bibliophile.tumblr.com

 

It made me laugh out loud, cry, blankly stare at the wall, bang my head against the wall, and at the end, collapse into a wave of admiration and respect for Ms. Muriel Barbery. It was by far the most honest book I’ve read, never failing to capture the authenticity and complexity that throbs in human nature.

Do yourselves a favor and pick it up, loves! The Elegance of a Hedgehog wins all my stars :’)

*BONUS*

It’s also a movie, what?! I’ve yet to watch it, but if it got an 88% on Rotten Tomatoes imagine how fantastic the book must be! <3

 

Thank you so much, kindred soul,  for reading! I’ll post about my summer adventures later this month. Until then, have a lovely Saturday and recommend some books for me while you’re at it! :’)

 

Advertisements

How I Began to Love Writing ~

Good DAY, detectives!

Once again, this blog has been as lonesome as those sorry little tumbleweeds in western movies for the past . . . couple of months?! I apologize – my schoolwork has swept me off my feet and dumped my free time into, well, a bottomless abyss.

[Now for a rather watery-eyed confession from me, Kezi, but if you love to write, you’re going to read this because you’re curious. Like all writers, you’re curious as to how other crazy people like you started out.]

THE BIG BANG – The website that started it all

Today, I decided to explore my thoughts and interests, because, guess what? I’ve had this blog for almost two years!

As a refresher – this blog was an alternative, a blog just for me, after my trials and errors with a cutesy writing website. I made it when I was 11 or 12.

I, surprisingly, learned so much about people in general and about the responsibility of pleasing my viewers. I think that website, where I showcased my writings, however childish they may seem now, had finally clicked for me. Creating morningblossominc.webs.com unknowingly changed my life. It was something I never told my parents about. Or all of my friends, despite its rising popularity. I wanted to be completely independent and learn things myself.

And I did! Not only did I explore and pave my path to finding my voice while writing, (which has always been important to me) I actually WROTE. Almost every day. I kept editing and I spent countless hours in front of the computer revising and revising and revising because I had an active audience who expected great things from me.

With motivation, I could transform from an awkward, shy girl into something like a superhero.

I learned how to manipulate photos and use photo editors, and just more about technology in general.

Those were the days! That website really affected me, and I am just realizing this now as I am typing. It was permission to give some of myself to the world, and I received positive reactions, not flying fruits! It was glorious. That is what inspired me to pursue a career in communications, or more specifically, journalism or creative writing.

Sadly, I faded out of this phase voluntarily because I spotted that those who loved and enjoyed my site were escaping the whole “pretty-graphics-on-a-webpage” phase as well. After many years, I decided I only had two choices:

1) Never update my website & slowly fade out of existence

2) Close it down with a proper good-bye and explanation, & give my viewers a substantial reason

So I chose option 2.

Rather than continually chugging out stories and writing tips for people who knew more about writing than I did, I decided to feed and cultivate the love I had for writing even more by exploring my “talents.”

This, TA-DA! Was my product. I’m quite satisfied.

I’ve looked back at my old website I put so much effort into, and I remembered making people so happy. When I closed it down, 14 people (hey, 14 is better than none) told me they were inspired to write more because of the dedication I put into my stories. I discovered I even had a secret fan club with an intimate 5 members who visited and raved over my stories every day. I realized I CAN do it. I can probably make it in the writing business – if I can attract a couple of hard-core fans without realizing it, I could probably attract more down the road if I worked hard.

I’ll tell you a secret – that was the best feeling in the world. To know that I had made a difference by simply having an enthusiasm for something that I already had a deep-rooted love for. Although sometimes I look back at my silly and frilly pink website with a cartoon elephant saying, “Welcome” on the home page, it really meant a lot to me, and it STILL means a lot to me. And that’s saying something, since I was only 11 or 12 when I made it, and I’m just a silly teenager who’s about to be 15 right now.

Many things  have changed. If you look back to some of my previous entries on this site, which stretch back to July 2011, you’ll see that I become increasingly sarcastic over the years! I’ve unconsciously stopped using an abundance of smiley faces, and my writing has become more formal. I’ve also written about more mature subjects. For example – this is the opening of a blog I wrote in August, 2011.

Hey guys! Wow, today was such a great day! Our grade had a retreat, all day, (no classes) at the gym of the neighboring church. My goodness, it was really fun & inspiring. We made play-doh monsters, skits, lectures, FREE FOOD, piggy-back races, races with the interns & basically, when we weren’t in the middle of an activity or lecture, we were partying :) Everyone was running around, dancing on chairs & spinning around & getting dizzy. (that’s what I did ^_^)

Ahh, how refreshing is that sweet child-like innocence?! I’m still a child, of course, but I’m just a little more sure of myself now and it’s pertinent.

The early years, and the scary books I wrote that freak me out now.

I started like any other person who love to write – by reading! My favorite book in Pre-K was Hippopotamus Wants to Take a Bath  and in Kindergarten, it was The Dying Cactus. Now that I think of it, I have no idea why a 4/5 year old was so intrigued by dying plants . . . but perhaps this inspired me to create my first “serious” – and rather morbid – story in 2nd grade.

But before that, my first story ever was called Flora Buttercup, a girl who lived in the Philippines. Yup. That’s it. (Don’t blame me, I was 6 when I wrote those 2 pages!)

My next one was when I was 7 – 9 years old, but I mostly remember 2nd grade. It was called The Deals and Julia. This is why it was morbid –

-Julia and her family go on a kayaking trip down a river

-What they don’t know is that river extended into a humongous waterfall

-The water fall was about 30 feet high.

-Julia, her parents, her little sister, and her baby brother fall down the waterfall.

-Her parents died because they didn’t know how to swim. I gave the reader false hope and I gave the parents a log to float on but then I made a wave, which washed it away, and therefore they drowned

-Her baby brother drowned

-Her sister hit her head on a rock on the way down, Julia saved her. But then the sister got bit by a poisonous banana spider, turned purple, and fell into the water, drowning.

. . . I don’t know about you, but I think that is pretty morbid for someone who’s hasn’t lost all their teeth yet.

My point has been made – I’ve never been afraid to push boundaries and limit myself to what is “normal” and “acceptable” writing. In fact, I find writing about twisted murders, shady characters, and post-apocalyptic worlds  highly amusing. On the other hand, sometimes I write about sappy things, like teenage love stories because, I hate to admit it, I’m a romantic.

Over the course of the years I made more stories, and I won’t get into that because there are too many to count!

Something else, other than the website that really made me love writing even more (and more cocky that I already was) was winning gold at a district competition for Ready Writing. They give you a topic and you write as much or as little as you want about it, and it’s judged subjectively by a panel of 3 judges. There were 50 kids my age and a year older then me in the competition.

That’s my writing history, because quite frankly, I haven’t been alive for too long.

Why writing is an escape for me

I’ve always thought of writing as an escape. I’ve learned that words are malleable and can be manipulated to form the most beautiful and interesting passages, and I fell in love with that. Writing is a form of self-expression that tears down barriers in my mind and leaves a gateway into creativity and beauty! It’s so spectacular how amazing good writing can make me feel  – because of the many talented writers out there, I’ve been able to explore in a completely new way. I get chills when I read good books, I become so enveloped in the story and the characters that I want to create something that will make other people feel that way, as well.

I fell in love with those moments where a word just FITS so perfectly to convey my thoughts – at those moments, I am reminded of how words can be so incredibly powerful. I love how I can be completely stuck on what I’m writing and suddenly, images and words string themselves together to help me create a perfect affirmation of  what I’m writing. It’s a beautiful and mysterious thing that I can’t seem to shake off.

As much as I’ve been told I’m a good writer, I’ve had more times where people tell me there is no career in it. Some people don’t seem to take me seriously when I tell them, because later on, they either question it or they ask me again what I want to do. My answer will not waver. 

I’ve realized over the years that writing is something I’ve always considered and never negated. Although other careers like being a sociologist or teacher have been possibilities for me, nothing can beat the elation I feel when I write. It’s tough and sometimes drives me crazy, but perhaps that’s the “consequence” of becoming more accomplished and creating something I am proud of. I also love to write because it often comes out as wild and unpredictable, and free. The freedom is so sweet.

 

Although I don’t write as much as I used to,  I still feel the same raw and pure joy I feel when I put something together. I also can’t go a day without reading. And when I read, I dissect the words, I dissect the characters. I dissect the meanings of the book and how the writer used certain words to produce a certain effect. For some reason, I can’t just enjoy the story, I have to understand how the writer came to carry it out. I think that means something.

Call me cocky or inexperienced, or call me an inefficient girl who wants to make a name for herself one day, but doesn’t have the natural talent to. Or, tell me that I’m still a sapling in comparison to the greats and I have a lot to learn. I agree, I need to experience more things to truly be labeled a “writer,” because technically, I’m not one.

But I’ll tell you this – I do have a burning passion for writing, and people always tell me if you love what you do, keep doing it.

9-11 Tribute

8:46

It was Cailyn’s birthday, though I had to start off the day as I normally would. Drop off Cailyn at my sister’s apartment, take the subway from Queens to lower Manhattan and then grab a quick coffee before heading to the office.

“But daddy, it’s my birthday,” she had said with her big green eyes when we were in front of Vicky’s apartment complex. It was a beautiful day, moderate in weather & the leaves on the leaves were turning colors, slowly.

“I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry but I couldn’t get off from work today.” I wanted nothing more than to spend the day with my 2 year old daughter but I had a presentation to do and I knew she would be in good hands at Vicky’s.

Cailyn just looked at her new pink shoes and frowned. “But what about Mommy?”

“Mommy’s coming home today, remember? When I pick you up from Aunt Vicky’s she’ll be with me, I promise. Isn’t that exciting?” She smiled and threw her arms around my leg. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Cailyn.”

Cailyn was adopted. She came into Sharon and I’s life when she was only a few months old. And let me tell you, Cailyn was the light of our lives. She had always been a happy baby and I loved my daughter more than anything I could ever imagine. It pulled at my heartstrings to know that today her mother wouldn’t be here to celebrate the day and I wouldn’t either.

Sharon was flying in from Colorado. Her flight was scheduled to arrive at the airport at 9 in the evening. We both agreed to pick up Cailyn a bit later than usual so she could see her mother right away.

I was turning into the subway station, about to take the route I always toke to work. But I realized immediately something was wrong. The air was full of tension. Several people were in tears, and other had just stopped whatever they were doing and prayed. Reluctantly I boarded the subway – I couldn’t think of anything but of the fact that I was late for work. I was called in at 8:00 but now it was almost 9. I had spent the hour taking Cailyn for a small birthday breakfast before dropping her off at Vicky’s.

As the subway started to move, I noticed several people were on their phones and many people were swiping at their eyes. I leaned over the man beside me, who was wearing a sleek black business suit but despite his professional, no-nonsense demeanor, his eyes were puffy.

“Excuse me sir, but could you please tell me what’s going on?”

He looked at me with eyes so filled with heartbreak that I prepared myself for the worst.
“Son, did you not hear? The North tower of the World Trade Center was hit, and as we speak, thousands of people are dying.”

But although I prepared myself for the worst, nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

“Hit? Hit by what?”

“Hit by a plane. It hit the all the top floors. The people were probably never able to escape, with their offices so high.”

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.”

I put my head in my hands, not sure what to do. I was shocked and confused. My office was on the 83rd floor. I thought of all the people I knew that worked there – my friends, my co workers, my boss. The man that pushed the buttons on the elevator. The secretary, the front desk clerk. The janitor, the interns – heck – there could’ve been children in the building. Children visiting their fathers or their mothers. Children just going to visit their parents, not even knowing…  My mind switched back to my daughter. If I had gone to work at my regular time today, Cailyn would not have a father.

The subway halted at my stop, and as I walked out, the business man I had talked to said, “God bless you.”

I gave him a polite nod and braced myself to see what disaster lay ahead of me. Immediately thick smoke slithered into my lungs and crowded my vision.

Once my eyes focused, what I saw made everything go fuzzy and it seems as though everything happened in slow motion. Both towers, now, were engulfed in flames, one with a plane jutting from the top of the building. Papers, documents and clothing fell from the sky as if it were raining. Broken glass, wood, shoes and countless other things littered the streets of Manhattan. But despite the shouts of the firemen yelling orders, or the alarms blaring in the distance or the crackling of the flames nearby, the loudest sound of all were the people. Hundreds of people were wailing or crying, all at once like a big, depressing symphony.

My ears were muting everything slightly – as if they were filled with water. It was only until later that I heard shouting, directed to me this time.

“WALKMAN!” Screamed a voice.

WALKMAN!”

I swiveled around at the sound of my last name. I was relieved to see Ted Kingsley, one of my co-workers who worked on the 15th floor, was limping towards me, sweat dripping everywhere, clothes tattered and blood mixed with soot on his forehead.

He choked out the four words that changed my life.

“I have a message.”

“From whom?”

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he fished his hand into his pocket and pulled out a partly scorched folded up piece of paper. While eyeing him fearfully, I unfolded the piece of paper. It was a note filled with my wife’s curly but skinny cursive handwriting.

Clyde-

I took a flight home early to see you. I wanted to be there for Cailyn’s birthday. I missed you & her so much while I was gone. This note is just to inform you that I went up to see Harvey’s wife b/c I brought something back. Come up to see me when you arrive, will you? Remem – “

What is it?! What did you want me to remember?! Inside I was screaming. My world had been taken away from me. All I could focus on was Sharon. Sharon, who had came home early to surprise Cailyn. Sharon, who visited Diane, who worked on the top floor. And the planes. The planes that crashed into the towers.

It seemed that in this whole mess, people were only trying to get away from the towers, and I was the only one trying to go towards it. Gingerly I folded the note safely into my pocket. No way was I going to lose her. I ran, faster than a 37 year old man should have been able to run, to the north tower.

I didn’t care about the people who were shouting at me, or the firemen who were trying to stop me. I wanted to go into that building and climb to the top floor and see my wife. I wanted to take her home and pick up Cailyn and go out to eat, just like we used to. I wanted everything to be ok. The firemen around me were struggling to hold me back.

Then I felt a blow to my face. A firewoman in full uniform took me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.

“Sir. You cannot go into that building. I’m sorry if someone you know was killed,” at the next part her voice broke. “Go home, go home to safety. Go to your kids.”

And I did. I went home. I walked all the way back to Vicky’s house, just for the fact that there was nothing else I could do.

Standing on the doorsteps, waiting for Vicky to answer the door and thinking about how to break the news to my child – was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life.

Vicky opened the door, and I handed Sharon’s note to her. She broke down in tears and sat collapsed on the couch.

Cailyn wobbled over to me, and I picked her up. “Daddy! Daddy, you’re home.”

The world went fuzzy again. “Yes, yes, sweetheart. I’m home. I’m here.”

“But where’s Mommy?”

“Mommy . . . isn’t here right now.”

“Where is she?” She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“She’s gone, sweetheart.” After saying those words, I felt as if someone shot me in the heart. It sounded too official, too quick and too odd in my mouth to be real. Sharon had not died quickly. She was trapped inside a building with no way out with smoke and fire and fumes everywhere. My wife was dead. It sounded too horrible to be true.

“But you promised Daddy! You promised she be home!”

I set her down on the couch, and put my face in my hands. I felt Cailyn’s little hand slip into mine.

“It’s ok, Daddy. Don’t cry.”

At that moment, looking at my beautiful daughter, with her soft green dress, blonde, wispy hair in pigtails, and big emerald eyes – I realized maybe everything will be ok. Maybe everything will be fine after all.

 10 years later

“Cailyn, you’re up next,” said my teacher, Ms. Francy.

Normally I would be nervous, speaking in front of the whole class, but today I wasn’t, not even a drop of anxiety in me at all.

I pulled out my essay and started reading.

“What is a hero, really? A hero is someone that is loyal, someone that is brave, and someone that grows up to be an amazing person. Today we commemorate the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the tragedy of 9-11.

Hundreds of lives were lost, and although we see their deaths all as one, we must look at them individually because the death of every person who was lost that day affected many, many people. These heroes that died never got a chance to live out their lives fully, and many of them never got to say goodbye. Maybe their last words were spoken over the phone, or by email, or passed along by a note.  But the tragedy of this situation was that most of those last words were not tailored to say goodbye. Most of them were probably, “Pick up the mail,” or “Go to bed early,” or even, “I hate you.”

Any one of these people could’ve been the President of the US, or a teacher, or a fireman or woman, or part of the police force. Any one of them could’ve dedicated their lives to serving other people. Any one of them could have been a mother, or a father. It saddens me to know that innocent people were killed and that their parents, children, friends, and family are all still mourning because of their deaths.  But today, as we mourn over this ordeal, each and every one of us should know that these people are heroes.

My hat goes off to those who sacrificed their lives for others, and for those that risked theirs to save this country.

Ten years ago today my mother sacrificed herself to see me on my 2nd birthday. Although I only knew her for two years, she is the bravest person I know.

Ten years ago today everything changed, but our nation grew closer. On that day everybody became one, and they only had one mindset – terrorists had attacked our country. On that day enemies became allies. We all worked together, as a nation, to rebuild the ruins of our country and put them back together. Today, we are stronger than ever. Through the darkness we pinpointed light. And I have to say that I am very proud of our country. I am very proud of the heroes lost, but most of all, I am proud of my father and mother.”

******

Hi everyone :) I hope you enjoyed my 9-11 tribute. I thought the least I could do today was to commemorate the lives lost ten years ago by writing a short story. I hope we can all pause a moment and think about all the lives lost this day, 10 years ago.

I actually have a story of my own. My cousin Erika used to work at the Twin Towers, and she was scheduled in for work that day. Thankfully, her alarm clock didn’t go off and she didn’t wake up until after the planes crashed into the towers. Things like that don’t happen coincidentally – I’m glad God decided to spare her life that day! I hope this short story will help you see how important this was. That’s all for now! Thank you for reading and may God bless you!

ONEWORD OF THE DAY: DISTINGUISHED

She was wearing neon colored leg warmers and cowboy boots, with a super high pony tail tied up in a flower elastic headband. She was wearing a long owl necklace with a bright yellow clock face where the tummy was supposed to be, and a electric blue vest over an orange long sleeve sweater. She had some dirt smudged on her face and candy pink lips that were always curled into a smile. I fell in love with her instantly.

(hint, hint! the girl above may be a future character for Film!)

SONG OF THE DAY:

To tone it down a bit, here’s Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes!! :) My friend ‘Churro’ (lol) and I love Jack Johnson! She’s crazy about him :) This was the very first song I heard from him, and I really liked it because of the title (PANCAKES ARE MY LOVE) and it’s a great song too! Hope you enjoy it! :)

PS – Please visit my tumblr :) 

parasolrose.tumblr.com

Book Reviews!

Hi everyone!

Hope you all are having a great day so far. Today I stopped by Borders! I’m really very upset that one of my favorite retail bookstores is closing :( I love Borders because it has a great selection of books as well as cards, journals & other fun stuff. I still have Barnes & Noble around but I’m just sad that another bookstore is closing. Is it just me, or do you feel like the world is being ‘overwhelmed’ by technology?? I love technology. Without it I wouldn’t be typing this right now. It just seems that less & less people are taking the time to read books. The other day I was reading a comic & it was of these kids approaching a bookstore that said ‘books on paper available’ & the kids said: “Look! An antique store!” .. I thought that comic was sort of funny but I also find it kind of sad that most people nowadays aren’t appreciating the talent & time it takes to write a good book. I have a Nook, by BN, but .. it just doesn’t have the same feeling as a regular paper or hardback.. the ink is generated & it has a back light, which I find sort of weird. There’s not a more fulfilling feeling then curling up with a good, old-fashion hardback. It’s like drinking a cup of tea. That’s why I would prefer a book over an eReader any day.

I bought 3 books because I had to get rid of my gift cards or else the money would go to waste :( Speaking of books- this post is going to be all about them to encourage people who don’t usually read to pick up a book! The ones I recommend are all extremely amazing. There are only a few on this list because nowadays it’s hard to find an ‘exceptional’ book. Most of these aren’t those sappy teenage romance books where the girl loses everything & her boyfriend or any of that cliche nonsense. So if you like those, you might want to try looking somewhere else haha :) Here goes :)

The House of The Scorpion by Nancy Farmer

Genre is SciFi. Here is a summary of the book copied fr. bn.com, credit goes to them because I read it a long time ago. 

MATTEO ALACRáN WAS NOT BORN; HE WAS HARVESTED.

His DNA came from El Patrón, lord of a country called Opium — a strip of poppy fields lying between the United States and what was once called Mexico. Matt’s first cell split and divided inside a petri dish. Then he was placed in the womb of a cow, where he continued the miraculous journey from embryo to fetus to baby. He is a boy now, but most consider him a monster — except for El Patrón. El Patrón loves Matt as he loves himself, because Matt is himself.

As Matt struggles to understand his existence, he is threatened by a sinister cast of characters, including El Patrón’s power-hungry family, and he is surrounded by a dangerous army of bodyguards. Escape is the only chance Matt has to survive. But escape from the Alacrán Estate is no guarantee of freedom, because Matt is marked by his difference in ways he doesn’t even suspect.

Ok. This book is seriously really good if you like SciFi :) It thrilling & I thought it was a very worthwhile book. (sorry for the horrible review on this one, I barely remember it; I read it so long ago.)

Esperanza Rising by Pam Munoz Ryan 

Set in 1924, Esperanza lives in Mexico & she has it all- a wonderful family, a grand house & everything she wants- until her father is killed by bandits. Her life, her wealth & her family are shattered. Esperanza & her family leave their home in Mexico & leave for California, where they work hard on a farm.

This book was really inspirational- & I’m not sure if I would read this if the book was set in present time- but the fact that it was placed in 1924 adds to the loveliness of this book. It’s nice to see exactly what’s going on in that time era. Everything is really hard for Esperanza & her family. I also would like to recommend Becoming Naomi Leon, also by Pam Munoz Ryan. Ms. Ryan is an amazing author, she really captivates the reader & makes the book & the events seem real. I recommend any book written by her. 

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart.

 I have never read a series so clever. This book is about 11 year old Reynie, & he is a very clever thinker. He goes to a center where he & other children his age take tests with strange questions, relating to logic, skill & bravery. Out of the many people taking the test, Reynie & only a couple other children were selected on a journey to stop the progressing evil threatening to overwhelm their world. This book is the first out of the trilogy & I LOVED IT. It was so clever & I love how the clues & such were carefully placed. Amazing. I really recommend this book. It’s funny, charming, clever & exciting. Read the whole series! You definitely won’t regret it.

The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch

This book contained the most beautiful, touching, amazing story I have ever read in my entire life. No joke. This book isn’t fiction, it was written by a wise, young man who is was living with cancer, & he only had  a few months to live. He’s a college professor, & in this book he shares his wisdom of how to live your life & stories of his own. This book made me laugh & made me cry- it’s really great :) I recommend it to everyone of all ages :)

The Five People you Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom

This book is one you’ll want to keep reading over & over again! Eddie is a maintenance man at an amusement park named Ruby Pier. Over the years Ruby Pier lost a bit of its luster, but Eddie continued to grease the rides & prepare them for riding to keep the children safe. Eddie is the unseen hero – he has probably saved hundreds of lives by doing his job. One day, a little girl has an accident. Eddie spent his last few seconds on earth trying to save the girl from death. When he wakes up, he realizes that Heaven isn’t a white paradise – it’s a place where you meet 5 people who explain what your purpose in life was. I really think this story was very touching & sweet. It makes you think a bit what Heaven will be like after we take our final breath. It’s beautiful. 

And then There Were None by Agatha Christie

This is the most exciting mystery I’ve ever read! 8 people – who are all completely different – are invited to Soldier Island. When they arrive, they realize that there is no way off. Suddenly one of the 8 dies. Then another. Then another. They do not die from natural deaths – they are murdered, sometimes in the most clever ways. They begin to see a pattern of the deaths, & soon, everyone is frightened that they will be the next to be murdered. Who is killing these people? And why? Who can they trust? Read this book! It’s very exciting, & it was my first Agatha Christie novel. This is most likely one of the best books ever! :)

Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

I understand that everyone has heard that Harry Potter is legend, & that is most certainly true. You all know the story, so I won’t even bother to explain it – rather, I’m going to convince you to read it! J.K. Rowling has officially wrote the most magical (no pun intended), beautiful, touching, most believable characters & story line I have ever read. And I was barely alive (not like 1 years old, I was older than that ^_^ ) during the whole ‘Harry Potter age.’ If this series wasn’t any good, why is there a theme park, stores, merchandise, & not to mention the bazillion fans that have adored this series for several years? Why hasn’t the Potter died out yet? It’s 2011. The first book was released in 2001. 10 years of magic, tears, laughter, sorrow & amazement.  It hasn’t died because of the characters that are so witty, & so clever; and not to mention the story line & how J.K. Rowling drops clues & hints so slyly in the story. How every single name and character in the book has a special meaning.

And if you don’t believe me, go here & see how much thought went into this series:

http://www.mugglenet.com/books/name_origins_characters.shtml

How all the spells & potions also have a special meaning. Harry Potter is just so believable, so charming anyone would find themselves rooting for Harry without knowing it. I could go on & on about HP, but for your eye’s sake, I’ll stop rambling. All I have it say is to pick up this book & read it. It will change your life. It changed the lives of people all around the world, and & mine also. The End. Mischief Managed. 

That’s all for now :) I will be updating this post regularly! :) All of these books are amazing & I hope know you will love them if you read them :) If you guys have any other books you want to share, be sure to let me know, I’m always up for reading new books! 

And thank you all who have read this post, it means bunches to me! Hope you can use this to find a book that suits you. I wasn’t even aware that anyone read my blogs – and suddenly boom! You guys come out of nowhere!  Be sure to check out some of my others if you have time. Thank you for your kind comments & words & thanks again for reading! Have a good one! ♥ Kezi