So … this was my 18th year at my husband’s family’s GIANT Thanksgiving … a full week, culminating in 40 people for the big meal. I love it. The last four years have included a book club, which is just fun. I’ve only read two of four books because they tend to choose books that have very, very sad things happen to the characters. This year it was an epistolary novel, which I love, written all in letters. I found out about it the night before the club (the email got written and saved in drafts but not sent!) and so I bought it and read it that night and the next morning. I was LOVING it. And then … blammo whammo, the main character assigned herself the blame for her middle child’s death, something that colored the rest of her whole life and reframed the entire book.
I could not … could not … stop sobbing. I went into my children’s rooms and talked to them (they are used to it and they are teenagers so they were kind while also rolling their eyes). I wasn’t going to talk about it at book club but my mother in law (beloved!) asked me to.
So I did. I started sobbing as I talked about it; I sobbed yesterday while talking to a friend who LOVED it.
My beautiful mother in law said I read books more deeply than others; my best friend of 30+ years said she is so non-emotive that she deeply appreciates deep feelings in a book. I am so .. emotive .. in my daily life that I just … cannot. I read serious (in quotes for sure) fiction my whole adult life until I had kids starting at age 34. Then it just … wasn’t good for me. I just … really really need/love the promised happy ending of romance novels. Which are well written and lovely besides!
I just … modern heartbreaking fiction … life, even as peaceful and relatively happy as mine if … already has so much heartbreak. So … what’s your note? Cry you a river or happy endings only, please?
