Being a heartless ghoul is kind of my thing.
A long time ago, when you could still have fun on Goodreads.com and also GIFs were still cool, I put an image in my bio of Michael Scott saying “I am dead inside.”
All these years and concerned messages and one-star reviews later, it’s still there. Mostly because it’s been grandfathered in and I now can’t change anything about my bio, but also in small part due to the fact that I am still that way.
And yet there are some books — a precious few — so utterly devastating, so brilliantly done, or so unflinchingly emotional that they sway even me.
These are those books.
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