After searching high and low for a copy of Marcelo in the Real World, I finally got my hands on a copy--thanks to my friend Banna of the (wonderful) River's End Bookstore. Both Banna and my friend Sharon--two women for whom I have tremedous respect--have raved about this book, which was rumored to be a contender for the Printz award to boot.
It was an easy start; I liked it at first, but at a certain point, I found myself wondering what was so special about it. It as a fine book, but I didn't think it was great. Until...I kept reading. And it got better. And better. And in the end, it was beautiful. Thoughful. Poetic.
And maybe not entirely believable? But it was certainly true, and for that, I can forgive a lot.
Now I'm more than halfway through The Lost Symbol; I started listening to it on a long car ride, although I should have known better. Dan Brown may not write the most literary novels, but they are certainly compelling. So, back to the hidden tunnels and mysteries of Washington...until next time!
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