Oh man, I’ve missed reading. And to find a book that can’t be put down, even into the wee hours of the morning? Bliss.
The first fifty pages of Falling Home were treacherous. The writing isn’t the greatest, but the story eventually overpowered the writing. It’s the same level of engagement found in the Twilight series…that I will sheepishly admit to having read. There is something about the love stories in these books that successfully panders to the wide-eyed young woman within.
S is a huge reader. As in she strictly borrows books from the library or the community because it would be a budget-breaker otherwise. Just as I would any other good read, I want to give her this book, but {spoiler alert} the sister has advanced cancer and dies at the end. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get emotional thinking of S, who is for all non-family tree purposes my sister, dying. And I simply won’t give her the opportunity to give up even a gram of hope.
I shouldn’t censor anything from her, but when Dr. Cure It refused to give her a life expectancy*, but told her instead, “People are cured from Stage IV cancer. It’s the exception, but it does happen.” there’s no way I’m pumping anything negative her way. If she stumbles across this book on her own, fine. But it’s not coming from me.
*The median life expectancy is nine months from diagnosis for Stage IV melanoma. Go to a dermatologist and get your moles and freckles checked. GO. Life is already far too short. DO NOT gamble with cancer.
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