Augustuspov Stories

This is a soulful novel that tackles big subjects--life, death, love--with the perfect blend of levity and heart-swelling emotion. Augustus Waters is seventeen, when he meets sixteen year old, terminally ill Hazel Grace Lancaster at his friend's kids-with-cancer support group. The two are kindred spirits, sharing an irreverent sense of humor and immense charm, and have universal questions of the human condition--How will I be remembered? Does my life, and will my death, have meaning? Insightful, bold, irreverent, and raw; heartbreaking, and brilliantly exploring the funny, thrilling, and tragic business of being alive and in love. ----------------------------- This book is not "The Fault In Our Stars"; yet it is. This is my interpretation of Augustus Water's mind and emotions. I will update it often, usually a few chapters at a time. Message me if you have ideas. Share your interpretations that I could add if I agree. Tell me if you disagree. Thanks lovelies, I hope you like it, if you don't- well.. "The world is not a wish granting factory". -B A Lonely Bibliophile @alonelybibliophile

The story "The Fault In Our Stars" by John Green, from the point of view of Augustus Waters instead of Hazel Lancaster.

Peyton has never spoken to her mother, and her dad is always at work or on a business trip in France. She has benign leukemia that doesn't do anything to her, but at any moment, it could kill her. She's kind of shy, but that all changes when the most popular boy at school wants to get to know her, and things turn upside down.

We are young kids. Some of us are going to die from our sicknesses. We are innocent, we didn't do anything that caused It. Cancer is aggressive, and vicious. And it can be unstoppable. Since I learned to accept that, I could finally live my life. I was lucky enough to have my leg successfully amputated to get rid of It. Is it easy to live with 1 1/2 legs? No. But I survive like any other human. Remembering the operation makes my chest burn and my palms sweat. "Gus I promise you it's going to be okay. The cancer will all be gone and it will all be okay." My mother paces across the room trying to convince herself more than she's trying to convince me. "Mom. It's already okay. Please relax, I'd rather it be that way." With that, she sits and puts both of her hands in her messy hair with her elbows pointed outwards, her eyes closed. I don't remember too much after that besides a nurse with white hair wheeling me down the hall, with bystanders and little kids staring at me.