11/11
I genuinely don’t know how to put into words how much I loved this. I didn’t just “enjoy” Stranger to Love, I devoured it. Two days. Gone. And finishing it left me with that horrible, wonderful feeling of: “Wait… it’s over? But I just got here.” and“Okay. I need more.” Which is apparently becoming a recurring problem whenever I read something you’ve written:)
That’s one of the highest compliments I can give a book, because when you finish something this quickly, it doesn’t feel like you’ve read a long book. It feels like you’ve lost a place you were living in. And that’s exactly what happened to me.
I’m also ridiculously happy seeing you take everything I already loved about your writing and bring it into published fiction.
There’s something so special about finding an author and thinking, “Oh. I want to read everything this person ever writes. Unfortunately for my sleep schedule and sanity, you have become one of those authors for me:)
So yes, I’m obsessed. I’ll reread your work, get emotionally attached to fictional people who have no idea I exist and I will willingly submit myself to whatever emotional devastation you decide to inflict on us next, while complaining the entire time:))
I see the imagination, the care, the patience, the emotional investment behind your characters and relationships. Your stories have made me laugh, ache, get frustrated, hope, stay up way too late, and remember why I love fiction.
Thank you for writing complicated people instead of perfect ones. Thank you for making love messy, frightening, funny, vulnerable and beautiful. Thank you for making me care.