Our Quiet Growing Time

  Top Ten Tuesday is a weekly feature created by The Broke and the Bookish . For some sick reason, my heart craves tragedy. This is a list of just some of the books that have broken my heart and made me cry: 1. Me Before You by Jojo Moyes . An unconventional story of friendship and love, life and death. Will once lived the good life until an accident left him a quadriplegic, planning his own death via assisted suicide. That's when Louisa -- eccentric, vibrant, and lively -- comes into Will's life to try to convince him to choose life . I bawled for the last 50 pages of this book, prompting my husband to look up from his video game and say, "Why do you do this to yourself? 2.  We the Living by Ayn Rand. A girl alone against the world. What could break your heart more than that? 3 . Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte . A little girl alone against the world. What can be sadder than that? 4. What is the What by Dave Eggers . The story of one of th...

A diminutive, eccentric, brunette waitress at a shabby cafe in a tiny English town and a slick business executive who pursues extreme adventure on the arms of statuesque and shallow blondes aren't likely to cross paths. And if they ever did cross paths, they'd quickly un-cross them, because not only do Louisa Clark and Will Traynor have nothing in common, they live life by two totally different scripts. He's cultured and adventurous and snobby; she's flighty and unambitious and timid. And then Will, in the prime of his life, is injured in an accident, leaving him a quadriplegic and plotting the end of his life via assisted suicide. And Louisa loses her job at the cafe and is hired by Will's mom to be his companion, as a last-ditch effort to help her son see that life is indeed worth living. Me Before You is the story of two radically different people who come into each other's lives at just the right moment, to change each other's hearts forever. Lo...

Two things come to mind when you hear the phrase: star-crossed lovers. OK, well two things, once you get rid of the obvious: ROMEO AND JULIET. I think of this term in two ways: The lovers were never meant to live happily ever after, à la Rome o and Juliet: they will both die tragically or one will die tragically, leaving the other tragically alone, or they are separated tragically by events outside of their control. The evil univ erse conspires to tragically rend the lovers from each others' arms. Two lovers defy all the odds against them to either live happily ever after... or not. T hey have different backgrounds, but surmount the obstacles to be together. They are from rival families, they are from different faiths, cultures, or cliques; they are different colors, races, or classes. I'm not s ure whether one definition of these is more accurate than the other, but they co-mingle nicely in my brain. The story is an old one and has appealed to the romantic in the ...

When I studied in Paris during the summer of 2004, I read Ernest Hemingway's beautiful memoir of his life in Paris in the 1920s as an expatriate. One line from A Moveable Feast that I will always remember is from the very last page: "I wish I had died before I ever loved anyone but her." I'm not sure if I've ever read a sadder sentence. The ending of love is always sad, but what is more sad is his yearning tone... as if he really wished that he had always loved only Hadley. So why didn't he? Some books stick with you after you finish them so that it almost seems disrespectful to begin another when the words and the voices from the last one are still living in your head and your heart.* AMF was like that for me, as was The Paris Wife. Going into it, knowing what I did about ole Ernest, my loyalties were with Hadley, the wronged-wife-to-be. Hemingway was, admittedly, and in his own words, a "bastard" and I wholeheartedly agree with his a...

If ever I love again, I will not wait to love as best I can. We thought we were young and that there would be time to love well sometime in the future. This is a terrible thing to think. It is no way to live, to wait for love. ~from What is the What: The Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng What a heartbreaking sentiment. It serves as a reminder to never walk away angry, to always forgive, to love, and forgive some more.

Books have always drawn me in; sucked me right into the stories printed on the page. I remember, in first grade, getting so engrossed in my brand-newly issued health book (yes, my health book) that I was suddenly jolted from my reverie to find that the rest of the class was seated Indian-style at the feet of the teacher for story time, she was calling to me, and I was still at my desk, oblivious to her instructions, my head buried in my health book. My mom gave me The Yearling to read when I was little. I stayed up late to finish it one night; she knew I was near the end of the book, and welcomed me into her arms to snuggle next to her when I ran down the hall sobbing at the tragic end. I judge a good book by how passionately it makes me feel. If it evokes anger or laughter or tears or happiness from me, it’s a dream. If I am ambivalent at a scene or character that is supposed to be moving, I'm disappointed… because good writing should evoke powerful feelings. But Queen , by Alex...