The pages just fly by in my desperation to find out what happens. I honestly don't give a shit anymore if these books are objectively good (what even is that, anyway?). And I think both An Ember in the Ashes and A Torch Against the Night are told with nail-biting tension and perfectly-paced action. Because, for me, it’s not what a book is about, but how it’s told. I know they’re not something out of this world and I know the story is not that original, but I don’t care. "I’m not saying it’s the best book ever or anything.”īut, you know what? Fuck it. “I’m not sure I can take your opinion seriously anymore.” “This is just like ten million other books - how can you think it's so good?” But suddenly, out of nowhere, it was a bestseller! And that's when I got some unprecedented backlash for my review. Like most books I rate and review, I expected it to be forgotten in a sea of YA. I sped through it, loved it, rated it five stars, and thought that was the end of that. Last year, I read and enjoyed an advance copy of an unknown book from a debut author - An Ember in the Ashes. All that I love, all that matters to me, awash in blood. I realize I am not staring into his eyes.
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