Read-a-Thon Day 4: “Tears on My Pillow” and Book Spine Poetry

  • “Tears on My Pillow” Participation Post:
    • Share a quote from your current read or tell us about a book that really pulled on your heart strings. What was it about that book/quote that made you cry?

Oh man, have I got the perfect book for this one!

I’m just going to post my review from Goodreads, written minutes after I finished it.

My heart has been ripped out. Then it was stomped on. Then set on fire and the ashes blown furiously to the wind. I don’t think I can even write much of a review right now. All the other reviews about what an emotional roller-coaster this book takes you on are absolutely spot on. You FEEL every character in this book. They are exquisitely written in such a real and emotional way. They make you laugh, they make you cry, they fill you with rage, and you fall in love with them. The plot of this book is fascinating, with hardly ever a dull moment, even when there is no main action going down.

I just….can’t even right now. I only hope there will be a sequel to heal my devastated heart.

And a few quotes from the book to entice you further.

“Whoever said that love hurts was wrong. Love is excruciating, especially when you can feel it slipping through your fingers and there is nothing you can do about it. Like someone was playing tug-of-war with my limbs, ripping to shreds whatever was left behind. What it would feel like when love was lost…I wouldn’t survive that”

“You’ll probably die if you stay with me,’ he told me.
‘Then I’m dead either way, because I won’t survive without you.”

This is a great one guys! Check it out: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12389310-crow-s-row

The second book should be out by the end of the year, and I CAN’T WAIT.

And today’s challenge: Book Spine Poetry

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“The Satanic Verses”
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close;
The Glimmer Palace; Copper Sun
In the Time of the Butterflies
Fall on Your Knees
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Read-a-Thon: “You’re the One That I Want” Participation Post: Summer Reads

I have this thing about seasons, where I organize everything by what season it fits best. Music, movies, and of course, BOOKS, so I really like this post and love the opportunity to share the books I think are perfect for summer time.

I like my summer reads to be HOT, not as in, “this book has hot love scenes,” but the setting and the weather in the book. I like when what I’m reading matches my own environment. Kinda helps you feel it more, you know? I like beaches, the sea and sand, desert islands, deserts in general,  humidity, thunder storms.

So let’s get started.

I mentioned in my participation post that magical realism is my favorite genre. And this genre is perfect for summer, if you’re reading the South American authors, which are in my opinion, the masters of this genre. No one is better at describing the heat, humidity, and sweaty nights of secret love making like Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Isabell Allende. If you read these authors, you will be lifted from your own world and dropped off in the midst of a magic so exhilarating and unique, you’ll never want to leave.

 And after your trip to South America, let’s go to Africa. I was obsessed with Africa for a long time. And books, both fictional and non, fueled that obsession for several summers. Africa, to me, is the mother land, the place where we all came from, and maybe that’s why I feel so connected to it.

And then there’s sea and sand. The Beach by Alex Garland, The Island by Pete Benchley, tales of pirates and plundering, of getting lost at sea, stranded on desert islands. The Sea Wolf by Jack London, The Stranger by Albert Camus, The Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway,

And what is summer without some good, old fashioned southern charm? William Faulkner is good, if you take him with a side of whiskey. To Kill A Mockingbird is perfect for the end of summer, those last days before autumn starts to take hold. Truman Capote, Flannery O’Connor, A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy O’Toole.

This post is pretty scattered, and I apologize for that, so just take a look at my summer shelf on Goodreads for my favorite summer reads:

http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/1778744-hannah?page=3&shelf=summer

Summer Lovin’ Read-a-Thon Challenge Day 1: Teasers – One Hundred Years of Solitude

Step up to the challenge! It’s easy! Post your challenge then click on others to check out theirs, you may find another book for your TBR list!

  • Grab the book you’re currently reading (or recently read)
  • Open to a random page
  • Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page  NO spoilers allowed! Choose passages void of spoilers. The goal is to entice, yet not ruin the book for others!
  • Share the title & author, so that other participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!
  • Last and but not least, link up your post using the InLinkz below so that others participants can check out your post! You must link up in order to get your participation entry point! You MUST enter using the InLinkz to get your point .

****THIS CHALLENGE IS OPEN ONLY FOR 24 HOURS!!!!***** A new challenge will be posted tomorrow. 🙂

I’ll be using one of my favorite books of all time. We’re talking top 3. When I recommend this book, I try to explain the magic and beauty of it, but I always find myself failing to accurately portray just HOW special it is. There’s no better way to convey the feeling and depth of a book you love to someone than sharing passages from it. So this challenge it awesome.

From One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and since it’s a long one, I’m counting it as two passages. The way Gabo writes, it’s kind of hard to find short passages. Read the book, and you will see.

Pietro Crespi lost control of himself. He wept shamelessly, almost breaking his fingers with desperation, but he could not break her down. “Don’t waste your time,” was all that Amaranta said. “If you really love me so much, don’t set foot in this house again.” Ursula thought she would go mad with shame. Pietro Crespi exhausted all manner of pleas. He went through incredible extremes of humiliation. He wept one whole afternoon in Ursula’s lap and she would have sold her soul in order to comfort him. On rainy nights he could be seen prowling about the house with an umbrella, waiting for a light in Amaranta’s bedroom. He was never better dressed than at that time. His august head of a tormented emperor had acquired a strange air of grandeur. He begged Amaranta’s friends, the ones who sewed with her on the porch, to try to persuade her. He neglected his business. He would spend the day in the rear of the store writing wild notes, which he would send to Amaranta with flower petals and dried butterflies, and which she would return unopened. He would shut himself up for hours on end to play the zither. One night he sang. Macondo woke up in a kind of angelic stupor that was caused by a zither that deserved more than this world and a voice that led one to believe that no other person on earth could feel such love. Pietro Crespi then saw the lights go on in every window in town except that of Amaranta. On November second, All Souls Day, his brother opened the store and found all the lamps lighted, all the music boxes opened, and all the docks striking an interminable hour, and in the midst of that mad concert he found Pietro Crespi at the desk in the rear with his wrists cut by a razor and his hands thrust into a basin of benzoin.