Okay, okay.... I confess: I probably wouldn't have read this book if I hadn't "met"
Sarah Miller online.
There, I said it.
Why? I just don't read a lot of historical fiction. I'm a contemporary realistic fiction kinda gal. And there are so many books, so little time, and all that.
But I am so glad I did read it.
The girl can write.
First and foremost, her passion for the subject (Annie Sullivan) comes through loud and clear. I love that she took a subject she was so passionate about, researched the heck out of it, and then transported herself not just into the story, but into the
person of Annie Sullivan.
And the writing?
Oh, well, the writing.....
where's my highlighter?A worry has twisted its way into my stomach.
I throw an anxious stare out the window.
My mind is tangled with uncertainties.
The loneliness in my heart is an old acquaintance. [my favorite]
"Anne Sullivan?" He says no more, but I know from his tone that we shall never be friends.
The words stumble out of my mouth before I have a chance to catch them.
I mean, you
know how that woman feels.
And that's just by about page 16.
Okay, okay....I can't resist just one more (p. 75). This is describing Helen grabbing eggs off of Annie's plate. Now, Miller
could have written: Helen grabbed the eggs off of my plate.
But, nooooo.
She wrote:
Like a spider drawing up its legs, she pulls her fingers into a fist, dragging a pile of food to her grasp. The yellow bits slither out between her knuckles.
Where's my highlighter?
