I very, very rarely cry at books (or movies, for that matter). I can think of only a few that have provoked a strong emotional response of that nature, but I'm going to admit it: I bawled reading THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN.
Of course, given that dying dogs are right at the top of my "things-that-will-make-me-emotional" hit list, this really shouldn't have come as a surprise. It was like
the dream I wrote about reincarnating here, but 80,000x sadder and with a charming, lovable doggie narrator.
Dang it, Garth Stein. But no, seriously, I highly recommend this book. I'd been waiting for this book for several months and read it in two days. Luckily, neither the book I read before (ECLIPSE) or my current (WE BOUGHT A ZOO) are attempting to tug at my heartstrings.
OK, ECLIPSE tried. I enjoyed it, but I just laught too much at the teenage draaaaaama of it all to get worked up.
Oh yeah, and happy birthday to
cobheran! Which reminds me, I need to go watch last week's BSG.
Also, here's another
photo of Quistis. Shea will likely have something to say about my butt.