I'll admit it. I'm no longer the stone-hearted reader I was five years ago. I'm well on my way to being a softie. This didn't happen recently, although the past six months have had a huge influence on me, but books have grown to mean a lot more to me over the last two years.
also, if you want to throw a book at me, I will definitely cry. Whether it be for my sake or the book's, I do not know. (what the heck, past me...you make no sense? just how late were you up???)
so what does it take to make me cry over a few hundred pages? characters. gimme strong characters, weak ones, unreliable narrators...shove them into my life and watch them eat away at my heart (in an entirely non-gory type of way). Compelling plot. Sketch a beautiful story for me, and I won't be able to escape it. I will also have a week of hiding in the closet quivering because my writing will never live up to that. It's inevitable. And if you use imagery or prose or thoughts that somehow resonate with me, tears are guaranteed.
Just don't except anything deep, because I got emotional over Uglies' first line because of how freaking amazing it is. And honestly--cat throw up skies are a thing.
now, those are just some general ideas of what affects. what about books? it's one thing to get choked up over a simple sentence, but what about a whole book turning you into a leaky faucet? that's saying something.
the first book that comes to mind when I think about emotional books is Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock. Just seeing the cover makes me cry on the inside. I can't remember if I reviewed this book or not. I read it last year, and we definitely had a love/hate relationship. I hated the first fifty pages. Leonard and I just didn't jive. I'm pretty sure it sat on my TBR pile for a month, at least. Then I picked it up on a rainy afternoon and bawled my eyes out.
what about Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock made me so doggone emotional?
you don't know what's going to happen.
you don't know what Leonard's going to choose.
you hate his mother so freaking much.
you're emotional invested in old movie lines and hats and what's under a teacher's sleeves.
it's that kind of book.
another book that mentally broke me for like two days was We Were Liars. Literally broke my heart. Plus, that is one interesting read. Mystery, romance, contemporary, sadness...never ending sadness... and the prose. Oh the prose. The format and tone of the novel is something to cherish, because a book this amazingly written is hard to find twice.
basically, books with unreliable narrators turn me into an emotional mess. shocker there.
as always, Challenger Deep makes the list. however, one book that caused me much emotion that I haven't blogged about is It's Kind of a Funny Story. This book spoke to me a lot last summer. I read it around the same time as I finally buckled down and read The Perks of Being a Wallflower (which you can read about HERE). This is one book that I never bought but really probably should because it's so relatable. Craig didn't have a reason for his depression or his suicidal thoughts. they just happened. A lot of times, when I settled into a depression, I have no clue why I'm feeling so down or upset. I don't know what set it off. It doesn't makes sense. After he considered suicide, he did something about it. A lot of people experience this kind of thing and then do nothing about it. He, on the other hand, realized that what was happening wasn't good and called someone. He went to the hospital. He realized what would happen if he continued down this path, but instead of letting that happen, he did something to change his way. That made me so proud of him. The sad thing is that the author himself ended his life just recently. It shows that we can know how to save ourselves, we can have the tools right in front of us...but unless we do something with those tools...we have little to no shot. I also love this book because it really portrays that people with mental illness are lives too. They have stories. They have dreams. They can be funny. They have lives too.
if you haven't read this book, do it. please.
finally, the book that made cry the most to this day is probably After. Oh oh oh. I know I blogged about this book last year, but when it comes to jerking out my tears, it surely takes the proverbial cake. I just want to give Devon a big hug. Along with making me sob like a baby, it raises a lot of heart-breaking questions. Why do people choose to unsee what's ugly in their lives? Who is to blame in that huge mess? Was Devon right to plead guilty? Why do "bad" things happen to "good" people?
this book gives me a bunch of feels, okay?
once again, the unreliable narrator strikes again. I must have a weakness for them. I guess there's a reason why Matt is my favourite main character I've ever written. That kiddo is so screwed around by his grief and hurt that he truly believes the world hates him. I definitely have a soft-spot for him adn those like him. My little sweethearts.
Do books make you cry too, or am I just a big softie now? Do you crave strong yet unreliable narrators like I do? Do the feels give you as much pain as they do me?
have a good weekend, you wonderful people!!
- currently enjoying: throne of glass ~ echosmith ~ ink pens ~ sleep ~ spending hours at the library ~chocolate icing and gluten free pretzels ~ the freaking sky