...shit just got real

I finished the book Little Bee.

It was medium.

Turns out the secret plot twists were akin to, "Ryan Chazenski farted in your notebook and he told me not to tell anyone."

While the writing style was super interesting and the subject matter upsetting and informative, the hype on the back cover of Chris Cleve's novel DID NOT do his work justice...

However, I'm STILL NOT TELLING YOU WHAT HAPPENS!!!!!!!!

I've since moved on to MUCH GREENER pastures: Jeanette Winterson's sexy and philosophical novel Written on the Body.

Here is the cover copy (with a few comments from me):

"With the same stylistic daring an emotional energy that have made her one of England's most celebrated young writers, Jeanette Winterson has written her most beguiling seductive novel to date.
The narrator of Written on the Body has neither name nor gender (HELLZZZ YES!! AMBIGUOUS GENDER!! I love queer lit!); the beloved is a married woman. (OH NOOOOOO!!!!) And Winterson chronicles their consuming affair, she compels us to see love stripped of cliches and categories, as a phenomenon as visceral as blood and organs, bone and tissue- and as strange as an undiscovered continent."

Winterson's writing is poetic yet effortless for the reader, with quotes like,
"'You can't see what I can see.' She stroked my face. 'You are a pool of clear water where the light plays.'"

I am right there with our Genderless Narrator. I am in love. I am heartbroken. Shit just got real.