I can read faster than I can fry an egg. Never seem to have enough time to read but I'll make my own time coz heck once a reader always a reader. I buy books like all the time. Occasionally I feel guilty of my excessive expenditure; it isn't a reason enough to hold me down from spending on books altogether though. I don't always speak coherently about the books I love because I'll be overwhelmed by emotions, naturally. Books make me feel so strongly, that one thing people sometimes fail to do. And I'm in love with fictional characters; I'm doomed I know.
Currently into YA literature. But I love my other books alright.
I simply didn't have the energy to finish this. Not that the story was bad or anything, though I can't deny it was undeniably depressing. My biggest problem would be my inability to stomach Yates' writing style. It was too distracting to the point of not worth wasting any effort trying to dissect and understand it. Maybe my cognitive ability isn't that mature yet to fully appreciate it, or maybe it simply wasn't meant for me.
