julio-alexi genao

at least six kinds of wonderful.spent all night thinking about what to say about this one.never wrote a word.so I'm just gonna go do an off-the-cuff thing and see what happens, right?right.so.this is an amazing book.but subtly, mind. not so much with the extravaganzas, this one.just quietly, relentlessly, utterly awesome.not only do you get vivid and natural portraits of at least six people you didn't know before you started, you love them by the time you're a third of the way in.so much so that when someone you really, really should be sympathetic towards does something vile to them, you want to set her on fire with your eyes.and even she was painted naturally, completely, and with a generosity of spirit that you only see in real characters with real depth.though I wanted her to be cast into the gullet of sarlacc like boba fett, I had to admit she rather had a point.man, what writing.cozy, measured, beautiful writing. so smooth and graceful you barely notice it's there at all. the sensation of being a voyeur was particularly intense, here—because the language flowed and flowed, never calling attention to itself, yet limning the edges of powerful imagery that still lives in my mind a full day later.so damned good. the voice was so damned good.mature. assured. accomplished.trustworthy. i could trust this voice not to piss me off, even though the story began nowhere near where I had assumed it would. even though the hero's best days were far behind him when I met him——or so I thought.don't expect a typical MM romance. it's a romance, but wonderfully subverted to serve the purposes of a larger theme—and a more important one.several, actually.what it means to be yourself. to be the product of your experience. to be a warrior.to be a father.what it means to be brave. to be no longer young. to forgive.and to not.oh, fuck me in the face, chilrenz—you must read this one today.