Is it right to ignore your son who’s bent over to peer in at the cheese grilling on his too-thick slices of toast.
Is it right to need to race upstairs because you’ve reached the final chapter of your present read, which has been part of your life for the last few weeks and there are too many people chatting in the kitchen about the weather.
I need utter silence to concentrate, even from the background tv noise.. the presenter on ‘Storage Hunters’ is rolling his voice in auction mode quicker than I’d run from a queue to see Star Wars and right now it’s messing with my love life.
JoJo Moyes’ STILL ME has taken me longer to read than my reading buddies in the FB group, but we all know I read during portholes of time stolen from other pressing requirements.
Clever clues throughout the book are dotted for us to read; they come back to help tie up loose ends and assist in Lou Clark’s personal journey of discovery, that amazing girl from Stortford (who once only existed in JoJo’s mind).
I closed my bedroom door and continued to read the final chapter, my eyes already misty from two chapters earlier.
Lou HAS to make it through these crowds … FFS don’t let this fail JoJo … I NEED this to end well.
As a writer you hope your readers won’t simply enjoy your prose and find it well written. You want them to invest their time and care deeply about the characters.
The lines of letters passed through my eyes as she gets nearer and nearer to her destiny… my head is shaking, my heart rate is high … I’m gripping the duvet on my unmade bed…. PLEASE JoJo …
I turn the final page of a hardback book containing over 460 pages …. and I’m aware last night’s washing up still isn’t done because Love Island needed watching and Adam needed shooting.
The final two sentences and I’m balling my eyes out; that bittersweet moment. It’s finished. My journey with them is over.
Oh hell, I’d love to write like that 💫