mashkiz

May 26, 2022May 26, 2022

A man called Ove

I have never been so wrong about a book as I was with this one. Sometime in 2020, I shared the books I had read and a friend suggested that I have this as my next read. I read the blurb and wondered what the possibility was that several people would shelve this book on first attempt. I kept toying with the idea of reading the book because much as photos are a representation of what the person behind the camera sees, book recommendations sort of function the same way.

Last month when we were deliberating which book to read in May, a fellow member of the book club suggested this book. I thought It is about time I gave it another shot because there is really no better time than the present. This is how I got myself to read it two days before our book club meeting.

I could not nearly bring myself to like the name Ove. It sounds so incomplete probably a middle name or a nickname; it begs to be complemented by another name. Then who has sentences for chapters? This alone should have signaled that I was in for extraordinary.

Books these days have one of three styles; the writer has a then chapter followed by a chapter narrating events as they unfold or we get the perspective of one main character in one chapter followed by the other relevant character in the next chapter and lastly the book just flows as it is either the present, past or a letter another character in the book is reading.

A man called Ove has focus and direction a storytelling skill I was recently told I possess. The author wants to tell a story but for the main story to achieve its purpose, the reader needs to be acquainted with the feeder stories but not in detail, just enough flesh for them to shed light on the main story and also ensure the reader does not lose sight of the end goal.

A time like that comes for every man when he chooses what sort of man he wants to be. And if you don’t know the story, you don’t know the man.

Ove is a grumpy old angry man. My English teacher would be disappointed that I have not employed the correct order of adjectives. From his perspective, rules are rules and rules should be followed. He is a stickler and a man who minds his business. I am not one for cast in stone routines but I do like order. As the book unfolds we get to really know the man Ove. He is such a funny character and now that I think about it his lifestyle reminded me of lagom and why I would want to live in Sweden for a period in my life.

I like my space and in the beginning, I could not understand what is glorified about other characters always coming into Ove’s way and stopping him mid-track. Why wasn’t the universe conspiring to get him his heart’s desire? Was it too much to ask? In the end I realized that the universe did grant him his desire. This book is not about Sonja but I have come to love her. I think this book is the truest depiction of life and everyone should read it at some point in their lives.

Loving someone is like moving into a house. At first, you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years, the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection but rather for its imperfections.

There is something about a handyman. One who uses his hands to fix and has his set of tools. The same way mothers insist that a girl who cannot cook will be returned by her husband should have been the same emphasis put on boys to learn how to remove an airlock, fix a sink backflow, replace a shower head, change bulbs, yes I said it bulbs you will be surprised.

My intention was not to give much away about the book but just to let you know that you have a book that can be added to your to be read.

May 21, 2022May 21, 2022

Progress

I realized I cared..

I did look for the next harbor and I was willing to let this ship dock.

I realized I loved..

I love and I know the price is grief and I do not want to sabotage the love to begin the grief

I realized I want..

I want this to run its course. I want to take no part in the death but I will handle the internment arrangement

I realized I worry

I worry that I may have become vulnerable and my weakness is no longer my strength

I realized I changed

I have changed my lens and now I notice all the grey areas

I realized I fear

I fear that I may say goodbye too soon. I fear that if I stay I may lose sight of my boundaries and lack the strength to assert myself in the future.

I realized I am strong

I am strong enough to know what I want. I am strong enough to go for what I want. I am strong enough to let others know they are stepping on me and I need them to back off

I realized I am weak

I see it happening but I need someone to speak up for me. I am weak enough to convince myself it will soon be over or that I would soon leave and that I do not have to speak about it I can wait it out.

I realized I breath

I breathe loud enough to make the sound of an ocean wave. I take shallow breaths and at times I am left gasping for air.

I realized I sulk

The child in me wants me to sit with my anger and sulk. The child in me has a reward policy, do good and you get a reward for it, do bad and my silent treatment will be loud.

I realized I play

I play the game. I want more choices, more chances, more levels, more characters, more lives.

I have kept building this draft since last year.. I have outgrown the initial phrases but like its title progress, this draft will never end as I keep realizing.

April 2, 2022April 2, 2022

Uncertain

People start the new year certain…

certain that the year will have twelve months..

certain about their goal, what they look forward to

some want new beginnings, a new home, a new job

most want to be a better version of themselves and they are certain of that.

2022 is uncertain for me…

I have no clear path in my mind of what I want to achieve

In fact, I categorically stated that I want the year to be..

Unlike the last years, I do not have academic milestones that I want to achieve before the year ends. I hope to read books and there is no pressure on the number of them that I should finish. I normally have a list of activities and places I would want to go but this year, I did not come up with a new list, I want to do the activities I can and visit the places I can and also clear my backlog of places and activities ( a yes person to the activities and books that find themselves my way).

If I could try some it up, this year I want to reboot myself.

I am in the process of slowly shutting down where the laptop closes all open tabs and asks whether you want to save the changes.

I do not have a list, I just have one goal and that is to work on myself.

Most things in my life have been certain

After high school my career path became certain

Mid university I got more clarity on the path I would take.

The type of music I liked was certain, comedies and drama were my go-to shows and reality quickly joined the list

The path in my career is no longer certain, I am now aware that interest in a particular field is one of the factors to consider but not the main factor. I am developing an interest in a path I had written off since I scored terrible grades on the unit back in campus.

Back then I thought a job that is constantly demanding of you, keeping you on your toes is what I want. Now, I know such a job signifies a gap; it is either the organisation is understaffed, or the tasks are not evenly distributed among the available workforce.

When the year started, I had a goal. I planned to work on myself. I took steps in that direction and what I found startled me. I believe I am making progress and I battled with changing some things. I asked, why can’t I be accommodated for who I am? Along the process, I got the serenity to change the things I can, accept those I cannot and I am now working on knowing the difference.

This clearly was a January post but the draft has just felt ready end of first quarter of the year. April also feels like a beginning for me. I was certain that France would welcome me latest October 2022 and that plan has not materialized now I am back to the uncertainty. France is this fleeting dream that I always keep chasing and maybe the plot has always been for me to find new ways of getting there or wander for 40 years before that; lol.

My career is taking shape and I am very uncertain as to what direction that would be. My relationship is as uncertain as most could be but not to the extent that the weather has been of late. I do want to end on a positive note but I am uncertain of that.

Keep reading the blog for updates

March 26, 2022March 26, 2022

Can we skip to the good part

I know better days are yet to come and that the Lord always has good plans for us; plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a bright future. I hear that there is power in manifesting and we have to dream big. That our efforts today are to pay off in some near future where things will be better. That we know things are better when we can afford the lifestyle of not having to work to make a living and being in control of our time which we will spend sipping a cold drink at the beach and showing up for random plans with friends in far off destinations, look cute and post lots of photos for the gram.

I want to be. I want to wallow in the present. I want to exist here and now where things are not yet figured out. I want to enjoy what I currently have but I constantly find myself making 3 year goals, seeing the future. My agemates have already started the next phase of life which is settling down with a partner and or having a child. I am already pressured to think what next in my career, where else in my destination, who else in my dating cycle.

Glennon Doyle writes in untamed that when you sink in deep within yourself you know. She advices that instead of looking up answers by asking what another in your position would do, feel what your body is telling you. She says look within and I realize I have been on the right path getting in touch with my feelings and staying. The holy book teaches be still and know. It is through staying in the hurt, staying in the indecision, staying in the unknown until you know.

I did not know before that woman told me that all feelings were for feeling. I did not know that I was supposed to feel everything. I thought I was supposed to feel happy. I thought that happy was for feeling and that pain was for fixing and numbing and deflecting and hiding and ignoring. I thought that when life got hard it was because I had gone wrong somewhere. I thought that pain was weakness and that I was supposed to suck it up.

This year I have accepted that I wear my feelings on my sleeve. When I am bored it shows on my face. I hate it when people point out that I look disinterested or when I have any other face on other than a smile. I would channel all my face muscles and contort them to at the very least form Monalisa’s half smile. It was my duty to show only happiness so that others around me get comfortable enough not to feel tasked with cheering me up. Truth is I do not want to be cheered up, I wanted to wallow in my saddness because that too is a feeling.

I do not want to skip anything. The excruciating pain of losing beautiful things: trust, dreams, health, animals, plants, relationships, people. I do not want to skip the mundane and constantly piecing together till things form shape.

Let us not skip to the good part.

February 14, 2022February 14, 2022

The life of a perfectionist

It’s quite simple what is perceived as good and what would fundamentally be bad. Did you know you are not just supposed to love your neighbor but love them more than you love yourself? Apparently, if you aspire to a higher standard the world would eventually become a better place.

What a fucking cunt! That is what he thought he was for watching the phone ring and not being bothered because the caller would have ruined his mood.

Was he a fundamentally bad person for telling his colleague earlier that he had to take his lunch break because helping the colleague was not supposed to go over his mealtime. Was he mean when he blatantly said that he would not put in extra time to help a colleague who should have better managed their time so as not to be caught working past office hours. The same colleague who devotes every minute of every day to his desk without taking as much as a water break. He would delegate his lavatory visits if he could.

Would he be a fundamentally bad person if he expresses how distasteful it is to only gift ranging from socks, wallets, belts and or boxers. Is it so much to ask to be dined for a change or be the one receiving a phone call instead of constantly making the routine phone calls. Would he be breaking the social norms if he lets her pay the bill, if he throws a tantrum because his one and only request fell on deaf ears, or if he suggests that they each gift themselves instead of gifting each other because maybe then he would get what he truly wants. Would he be selfish if he lets their daily phone call slip his mind because of their inability to engage each other’s minds in thought-provoking conversation.

He follows rules … Rules dictate that he has to be obedient to his parents. Would he be a fundamentally bad person if he chooses what to obey because he can deduce right from wrong. Should he be a stickler to their wants and needs and put his aside never to be met. When would he be right to choose what is best for him? Would he be an ungrateful child if he recognizes the heartache that came with their love, the toxicity that accompanied their parenting.

Who came up with the rules? Who made right and wrong? Why did his conscience haunt him and he gave fucks about everything. He always thought about his mannerisms during the day. Was he too loud, did that sound arrogant, was he patient enough, could he devote more of his time, was this or that behaviour befitting of him. Could he walk away when angry and not torment himself on how he could have handled the situation better. Why could the other person not check their offensive tone it has to be him. Why should he be the one to apologize. Would he be loving her more than he loves himself if he stops pointing out the things he does not like and take her for who she is. Should he pretend he did not see it coming yet ever since the first time, the second, third, and fourth he knows she wants to act differently but keeps acting in the same way.. something about teaching an old dog new tricks.

He wonders if he is a fundamentally bad person for wearing his emotions on his sleeve. He does not smile at people he is not happy with. If he is cross at you, you will only need to be in his presence to find out because the disdain will be all over the face. When you ask, he will tell you unflinchingly what actions of yours have brought out the animal in him. His mother warned that he should learn to mask his feelings. Just smile even when deep down you want to grab the person’s throat and block their airwave. Smile even when they are stepping on your toes and it hurts. Laugh with your enemies and even dine with them… That is what it means to love another more than you love yourself.

He does not want that … He does not want fake smiles and niceties which are only a facade. He does not want to spend any minute longer than necessary exchanging pleasantries with people he much rather presume dead and buried as far as he is concerned. He is tired of being kind to everybody. He is tired of this mask that he has to put on. He is tired of the phrase everything will be alright and that God is in control. He will stand up for himself. He will occupy space, he will wear his emotions on his sleeve and for once watch the other person get uncomfortable and decide whether to stay put or leave. He will stop overthinking his actions and questioning whether he is fundamentally wrong.

January 31, 2022January 31, 2022

Fallen Grace and books in 2021

I knew He would never leave me. Yes, a struggle it has been but just before the end of the month the delivery of a post! I willed myself to write and I sought for a piece, had 3 drafts but they did not sit well with me.. one fateful evening of going through my friend’s stories and it landed on my lap, well served.

I started this book on 26th January and right from the start I knew I finally got the one. The blurbs promised a sad story; one of two girls, deep in poverty in Britain. I subscribed to the funeral ceremony that would make one of the girls cross paths with her to be destiny. Yeah, you think you’ve got a rag to riches story… Well rags, they were in and their journey and the narration of the story is one you want to read.

I must be reading books based in London each year.. it is the English for me. I can certainly twang and I am all airs. The lives, the descriptions, is it that I relate because the Britons were our colonizers and we have some sort of kinship tie. It certainly is the notable mentions, the nobility and the world of the dead as a whole especially at this time of the year. Historical fiction is the label given to the book’s genre.

The funeral industry is one that always leaves me in awe. Talking to dealers in death whenever the opportunity presents itself, watching how different cultures treat their dead, reading about hanging coffins and how that began due to scarcity of burial ground and the lengths the wealthy go about honoring their dead like Emelda Marcos having piped music playing in her husband’s coffin to keep him until burial in his home country became possible.

I like the ideas impressed upon me by this book. The author’s pedantic prose.. would it be a book by an English author if I do not have newfound words rolling off my tongue. I want to give it all away but I’m holding myself on a leash. I cried tears of joy because who would have seen that coming!!!

The book cover is befitting. The length is very manageable as it is only 232 pages that will turn fast. Another plus is that you will be more knowledgeable about England’s history when you finish the book.

I might as well sum up my 2021 in books in this post. 2021 recorded the lowest in the three years since I began tracking my reading experience. It is not that I read less or that I was distracted but many of the materials I read in 2021 were more academic than recreational. I marvel at the people whose count is 96 books in a year and in 2020 I was chasing that although with a starting goal of 40. This year January is almost coming to an end and I have only two finished books; quite a slow start.

My last book of the year which spilled over the first days of this year was Regretting you by Colleen Hoover. I am so glad I managed to read a book by her during the year. If you recall in 2019 when I started recording my progress I had read 4 of her books and I had so much to say here https://wordpress.com/post/dimplesmigrainsandaahs.home.blog/207. It is my pleasure to confirm that Regretting you has maintained the bar set by colleen Hoover. I dreaded picking the book up in 2020 in fear that it may erase the streak maintained.

I always like it when an author ropes the book title in the story and this book does it. The first few pages kept me interested, the next few pages lost my interest. I urged myself to keep reading since I only judge a book after the first hundred pages. Somewhere along my reading I stopped keeping track of the pages turned and as the end drew near, I was content with the pace, the writing, the description, the characters, the plot, the language and the length of the book.

Finding my passion is my passion

The story is beautiful, we go through the emotions with the characters, and the dialogue is so well written. One feels as if they were part of the audience. Other Honorary mention goes to The Mothers by Brit Bennet, and City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert. 2021 in books may fall short of the in depth review because of the books I read, the six that moved me during the year got their stand alone posts and two though written went unpublished. I am looking forward to the books I will read this year and the impact they will have on me and my writing.

December 12, 2021December 12, 2021

The Mothers by Brit Bennet

Sourced from booksandwineke on Instagram

There’s something about an author’s first. Maybe like we go in on our first love, at least from what I have seen in movies. We go in deep, love relentlessly, give in to the tide, and be swept away by the waves, steady, thrilling, memorable, and that first may not be replicated. There will be others but they will never be the first. The first lingers, the first is ebbed in your memory, the first is almost sacred the first…

I pondered over whether Brit was male or female. Being in the 21st Century, I expanded my thinking into what pronoun Brit goes by. Ever since badonpaper podcast shit on how men write romance and lovemaking of a female character, I tend to attribute well-written love-making scenes to female authors. This book has those, very descriptive, nothing out of the ordinary, and in those lines, I was inclined to think Brit is Female but I was not ready for that confirmation.

This book will do you well .. it was a page-turner for me and I am shy of declaring it my best book of the year while I still relish in its high. I know I have written highly of City of girls and yes I thoroughly enjoyed my reading of it and I would say the same about The Mothers.

The Mothers rightfully take the mantle because it is a short easy read. The satire flows and the humor in between the lines are the caliber of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine. If you enjoyed Eleanor Oliphant you will relish this. The characters and the theme are very relatable. Do note that there is a suicide trigger and an abortion trigger.

Before we were wives and mothers, we were girls and we loved ain’t shit men. The type of man our brothers warned us about because he was going nowhere and he would treat us bad on the way to that nowhere… A tragic woman hooks into an ain’t shit man or worse lets him hook into her. He will drag her until he tires. He will climb atop her shoulders and her body will sag from the weight of loving him.

It’s usually a gapping moment when an ain’t shit man brings the A-game in his next relationship. Some wait for the shoe to fall and at times it does while on other occasions the ain’t shit man continues the act or for those who believe, he changes for the better.

Most of the milestones in a woman’s life were accompanied by pain, like her first time having sex or birthing a child. For men, it was all orgasms and champagne.

The experiences in women’s lives are characterized by pain. Right from the monthly periods, as if it is not enough some have to go through it in severe pain. It is worse for women diagnosed with endometriosis and if you think surely it should only get better from here there’s the unfortunate lot that experiences painful sex not to mention no orgasm afterward and adding onto that the birthing process!

After a secret has been told everyone becomes a prophet

Everyone claims to have known.. each person picks a scenario and labels it the telltale sign for them. You wonder why they never shared their prophetic moment with the masses so that we can confirm the prophecy. Are we short of Isaiah’s in our midst who long before openly and without a shadow of doubt spoke about the birth of a Messiah in the town of David and everyone must have laughed it off …never quick to believe.

The topics addressed in this book are heavy. We learn about a girl who is left by her mother and another who leaves her mother. One who dreads having a child and another who is struggling to have one. Choices and how once made they determine the life we lead. The different ways the same boy loves; one was always a secret and another paraded as the acceptable one. The depiction of society has never been clearer. The characters Nadia Turner and Audrey and everything Brit Bennet covered in 356 pages are worth your time. I am looking forward to another book by her.

The characters were well thought of. While reading I thought, I hoped, I pitied Luke but I could not blame Nadia. I marveled at how Shaddie stood a chance, I felt that Luke might have a second chance. I liked the growth of the characters and how plot twists were just thrown at us and I had to reread the line as if the author had moved from the script. This would make a great movie because the story ought to be read or watched by many.

November 20, 2021November 20, 2021

The Nightingale has sung

War stories… knowing what people went through at a certain time in history through no fault of their own and imagining how I would have survived being in that situation. It is the names the natives coin for their oppressors. It is the love that comes their way in spite of the bodies dropping each day and knowing that each kiss is a goodbye. It is the hope for a better future, the longing for the past, and the uncertainty of the present. It is mostly the narration of the story, the description, the tempo, and the tone.

I almost gave up on this book; 200 pages in and I was as clueless as the characters. I wanted to know something they did not. Perhaps it should have been one of those stories that start with the end then explain how we got there. Maybe there should have been a letter that was written that we get to read before it is delivered. I grew tired of Isabelle talking about the war, Vianne expecting the return of the men who went to war and Gaëtan.

At first, I felt like nothing was happening in those 200 pages then in the next 100 pages I made sense of why things had to be narrated as they were. I was glad to be as clueless as the characters. Happy to go through the experiences with them. I felt frightened, fatigued from the walk to the border, the lack of essentials because everything is being rationed and the resignation to fate while doing my part.

Isabelle is brave, impetuous, reckless and I think that sometimes she took a risk when she ought to have played safe. Things were bad and she hoped her actions would help quicken the process to a free France but there was a long way to go. I understand how one can love another and at the same time only spew hatred towards them. I understand how one can be quick to think the worst after examining things on the surface. I understand that you can mean well but still be unable to do anything for another.

Some experiences are brutal and maybe as the book suggests, we need not work towards forgetting them and leaving them in the past but we should narrate them, remember them, notice what impact they have had and how they have shaped our character. The characters in this book portray different reactions individuals would have at a time of war.

There are those who would be up in arms in the frontline. There are those who sit back hoping and praying that their loved ones come back safe and sound. There are those who take subtle measures that make a huge difference even though they are not frontline in the war. There are circumstances that cannot be explained away and hard choices that people have to live with long after the war.

In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are

There is so much loss in war. One loses friends because much as the invader is the enemy, we each play a different role in the war for our survival and hence people drift. One loses themselves as the hypothetical scenarios they once formed in their heads become reality and there is no one to share with because everyone is going through something. Dignity, humanity, pride is stripped off and souls are laid bare. Children are forced to grow up overnight and see the world as is, no fairies, no Santa clauses, no Prince charming just ordinary men and women.

Grief like regret settles into our DNA and remains forever a part of us

After the war, some people talk about their experiences others want to move on with the pieces left of who they once were. There is so much to be forgiven, so much to be accepted, there is evidence of it all around but each person does what can get them to go through another day without hurting deeply. In love we find out who we want to be; in war, we find out who we are.

November 14, 2021November 14, 2021

Concerts

They remind me of youth. They keep you in the present. All that matters for the night is that you have a good view, you are intoxicated enough to enjoy the performances and still have the use of your faculties. You need to go to the bathroom early enough to withstand the queue before your bladder gives in. Also going in early so that you get your ticket verified and the armband sans another long queue.

I had really missed it, the crowd energy, the chanting, the shouting at the top of your voice, engaging your memory by reciting the lyrics back. Concerts should be recommended by therapists as part of the healing process. There you will get to see that it is just the little things that keep you grateful. Not having your feet stepped on, not having people use where you are standing like a footpath, and constantly excusing people. Being surrounded by females and respectful males who do not grope you. Being there because that is the way you intend to spend your evening.

I like the effort everyone puts in. A lot of planning goes into it. Right from when they announce the Artist who is headlining, settling for the venue, and the local artists whose presence would convince more people to buy the ticket. For the outfit, one considers its breathability because the crowd will increase the temperature by a hot degree and the same outfit also has to withstand the cold when you leave the warmth of the crowd. It is not enough for the list of the performing artists to be displayed, one has to continuously check on them and if they are rehearsing for the big day as much as you are and more so their health. It is such a bummer when an artist comes down with a disease days before or on the day of the performance. We do wish them a quick recovery but also prevention would have been better than cure.

Going to a concert alone is unheard of and mostly because we as humans are social beings and the idea of having good company around is encouraged. This concert was not appealing to my group of friends and constantly getting No as the response when I asked if they would be interested weighed me down. It made me wonder, where did I go wrong with my list of friends? When did everyone grow up and stop considering concerts as fun? When did money to buy an event ticket stop being one of the things we would save for?

I am glad I decided to take a leap of faith and buy the ticket anyway. I am glad that instead of sitting down deep with regret going through people’s posts about the concert, I am taking a much-deserved rest from all the dancing, all the shouting, standing and singing. You will find me in concerts, you will find me singing along, you will find me having the time of my life when the clock stops, and all that matters is the performance. Concerts are where you will find me.

When in doubt, go to that concert.

October 17, 2021October 17, 2021

Kintsugi

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of fixing what is broken ( mostly pottery) with gold. It is built on the idea of embracing imperfections and the notion that you can create something more beautiful than what was broken. There are too many broken pieces and our constant need to fix. A friendship that does not last the lifetime you thought it would, a relationship that has you filled with doubts and anticipating when it would break, the need to fix what is not even broken yet. It is like we live in a constant state of breaking and mending.

I had not realized it but so many broken pieces lay around me and I did not know what to do with them. Sometimes we think a situation or someone is completely broken and there is no way of putting back the pieces together. Sometimes we break people and carry around the burden of regret thinking if only I did not say that or If only I never met the person in the first place. Kintsugi is there to remind us that the broken can be fixed and its okay if we are not the same people to do the fixing. Mosaic art is there to show us that different broken pieces can make something more adorable than the original creation. Today’s deep dive is the aftermath of my book club’s read of the month ( September).

Young Adult books have never been my cup of tea. It is mentally disturbing that they are written by adults and I do not know what it takes for them to create such a young narrative. We had two options; a book that was described as sad Orbiting Jupiter by Gary D. Schmidt and Our Chemical hearts which was described as a love story. My fellow book club members opted for the love story but I wanted to see what could be intricately sad about Orbiting Jupiter.

I remember their astonishment when I reported that the book was not sad but mostly normal. We had a moment of them checking in and me clarifying that I was completely fine and just wanted to find out how sad a book could get. Nothing has topped Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami for me in that spectrum but I have also not been actively searching for sad books. Perhaps a little life by Hanya Yanagihara will top that list but its too long, and not captivating enough for me to bear through the end to find out. ( maybe I am not mature enough for the book but I see myself getting there and reading it to the end ).

I found this book sad. More sad than Orbiting Jupiter. Maybe it is because I went in expecting a love story that develops through Middle school only to be hit by grief, pity and so much wisdom about love. This writing is broken somewhere between being an editor’s post and a book review but the golden thread should guide you. As usual, I’ll now leave the golden nuggets from the book to bait you into picking and reading the book yourself.

Stories with happy endings are just stories that haven’t finished yet.

This phrase would mean that there are no happy endings.. I do not think that in this context the opposite of happy is sad and that endings are two sided like a coin. They are probably a continuum. If the author suggests happy endings are just stories that have not yet finished they could be anything else along the continuum. My explanation may only be a different way of expressing what the author meant and maybe she might have been onto something.

Because apparently you still have to chase girls who can’t even run

This was hilarious especially In the context of the book. I do believe girls should be chased but I did read somewhere that neither the girl nor the boy is the price. While in the relationship girls too do some chasing. At the end, love is the price and that’s the motivation for the chase anyway.

Everything dies love included. Sometimes it dies with a person, sometimes it dies on its own. The greatest love story ever told doesn’t have to be about two people who spent their whole lives together…. There’s nothing like a failed love, all love is equal in the brain.

Full disclaimer.. these nuggets of wisdom are not evenly spread through the book. You might struggle reading the first 77 pages like I did. Humour is what mostly kept me going and the fact that I needed to contribute on the conversation during my bookclub whether in praise for the book or tearing it apart. We had a fair share of both.

Not to leave your palate distasteful, one of the characters has this to say about why people fall in love again despite having being heartbroken .

Because the journey is beautiful in the beginning and no one can see the bend in the train tracks until it is already too late to stop and when you board the train you hope that this is the one that doesn’t crash even though it might be, even though it probably will be, it’s worth getting on anyway to find out.

Our chemical hearts.