I love reading. Anything. Newspaper, magazines, blogs, book reviews.
But, for relaxation, and to try and escape my world prior to sleep, I love a good mystery novel. Picoult does an excellent job of integrating timely topics within her novels that feature a compelling story. Picoult spins a great tale.
Yes, yes. I know I've reviewed her books before, but the only other book I am reading, in preparation for a talk I am giving to a hospice group, relates to dying with dignity. This book was an interesting read. As always, there are twists and turns and the unexpected for the reader.
I've tried various authors, as my faithful followers know. I have come to the conclusion that I will never read Steven King again. Not since the death of my parents can I deal with the gruesomeness of his work.
My good family friend, who turned 78 last month, told me that she taught a young man who was pretty sick, gruesomely so. Clear as day she recalled horrible incidences in the life of this seriously ill young person, who went on to find a career in writing violent, gruesome, twisted mystery novels. Our friend has vascular dementia, and cannot recall anything on a short-term basis, but she tells wonderful stories about her childhood, her youth, her adult working life as an early childhood educator and teacher, all the same. She reminded me of my teaching days. You meet children you wonder about, and fear for their futures. What struck me about her story related to this novel. What struck me was that, unlike dementia patients, he knows what he doesn't know, and this seems fitting with the current amount of information available to family members.
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