You guys, I loved this book. Like, a stupid amount. I loved this book so much it gave me the warm fuzzies. I loved it so much I wanted to be a teen again, and NO THANKS to that. I loved it so much I saved reading it for bad days despite wanting to eat it in one go like a cupcake. I loved, loved, loved this book like I was Roger Ebert’s evil twin reviewing the movie North. What I’m saying is this is a favorable review.
Its my first Rainbow Rowell book, but now I’m gonna buy more, obviously. The story is similar to but legally distinct from Harry Potter, but not in a lazy way; it’s the frame Rowell hangs her canvas from to tell a completely different story. One about destiny and power and love, which might be hackneyed except it’s a story about those things from people whose voices don’t often get heard. Like people of color. Or gay people. Or hell, just random people who have no interest in the status quo.
I don’t want to give too much away, but I adored the book. I reviewed a book earlier in this cannonball that fell flat with similar subject matter – I think the title was Of Fire and Stars, but it was so unmemorable that I’m not positive – and this book shows how to do what it attempted.
It was only in the afterward that I learned that Rowell’s earlier book, Fangirl, centered on the acolytes of the then-fictional Simon Snow books, which prompted Rowell to write one. I’m sure glad she did. This was a big book of happy for me. I’m now buying anything she’s selling. Eleventy million stars.