When I dive into a good read it's usually because it's an author I'm familiar with or one that's showed up on the best-sellers lists (Oprah's bookclub--it gets real) or has been heavily recommended, usually by my mom (not gonna lie). And yeah, I sort of have a weakness for young adult fiction, so when it comes to works like Megan McCafferty, John Green, Paul Zindel, Curtis Sittenfield on and on and on, I like to recall them as my friends. They hold space on my bookshelf, they have in some way or another given me advice, I mean, we could probably chill. But why I think so highly of authors I read is because they've led me into their thoughts, their ideas, shared their creativity willingly and in turn encouraged me to create.
Recently, an actual friend of mine finished his most recent work, Miss Mezzanine. For me, reading this book was a completely new experience. Probably because it was just that, complete. Unlike my other author "friends," the author, Mike Smith, is a human-being that I have had legit conversations with...in person. Like I go to his house. I'm best friends with his wife. I voluntarily massage his scalp, in an unawkwardly non-questionable fashion. Ya dig?
Originally I thought oh, how much of Mike Smith's brain will I be able to dissect with each turn of the page? Will I be able to identify any characters as people who play roles in his actual life? Will I gain a new perspective about him as an author? as a friend? as one and million Mike Smiths in this world? However, after a few pages in, all those inquiries and predictions that anticipated some answers just slipped away. I was right there experiencing all the events; smoking a joint and somehow relating to Jass's boner for Annabelle, and seated in the damp field of grass just as another bystander at the concert. As I read, I observed, listened, and felt present. There were moments I grew a tad envious of these characters and their stage of life. These assholes are in college, how much easier can your life get? But it wasn't easy. And I was reminded of how lucky and unlucky, and how much luck really had nothing to do with it. As the book progressed, I craved to read something that would strike a new nostalgic nerve. Walking on the path to class. The cafe smell that seemed to linger on your clothing for days. Your stomach's reaction to the shack attack. Relationships that meant nothing and the ones that meant everything and still do. Questions about life after college and becoming an adult. And then a little bit of school in there. And when I stopped being jealous, I allowed myself to relate. I was even unsure about what these characters should do next. The beautiful thing was that there was no exact wrong or right discuss to be had. Sure it was a fictional piece, but there was nothing really laying in "fate's hands." It was about a young heart, and inexperienced mind trusting his intuition for the first time. How inspiring. We look at our younger selves, we see younger people, and think how in the world did I mention to get anywhere? With trust. Putting ourselves first. Knowing what we want. Ultimately listening to ourselves. This book was a great reminder of these things--of our true abilities, our real ambitions, our response to living with a purpose.
The book became such a great piece to read. It never lost its edge because of his format and approach to the story. It was written with an omniscient narrator, so there was total access to get into the nitty gritty of the characters' actions and thoughts--PLUS a first person narration of a public blog, written by the love interest, (who doesn't really know she's the love interest of this story), Annabelle. I loved that this part was written as a blog because it switched speeds from the main narration and got me personally excited once I reached the end of the chapter so I could read her . Because Annabelle writes as herself, arrives as herself, is her authentic self--something at the age of 22 I cannot even fathom.
The reason it was so important for me to read this book was because first and foremost I wanted to support him. The second reason was because I was a witness to his journey and just had to know the ending! Believe me, it became way more than that. While writing to complete his book, he stayed in on weekends and stayed up late on weekdays. He took vacation days off from work to "vacation," locked away in his house diligently writing. Within 10 months, he met personal deadlines with great intentions and made this dream of binding a printed self-published book a reality. As a result, he created something and his readers are grateful.
With love,
Miss Baverso ;)
Recently, an actual friend of mine finished his most recent work, Miss Mezzanine. For me, reading this book was a completely new experience. Probably because it was just that, complete. Unlike my other author "friends," the author, Mike Smith, is a human-being that I have had legit conversations with...in person. Like I go to his house. I'm best friends with his wife. I voluntarily massage his scalp, in an unawkwardly non-questionable fashion. Ya dig?
Originally I thought oh, how much of Mike Smith's brain will I be able to dissect with each turn of the page? Will I be able to identify any characters as people who play roles in his actual life? Will I gain a new perspective about him as an author? as a friend? as one and million Mike Smiths in this world? However, after a few pages in, all those inquiries and predictions that anticipated some answers just slipped away. I was right there experiencing all the events; smoking a joint and somehow relating to Jass's boner for Annabelle, and seated in the damp field of grass just as another bystander at the concert. As I read, I observed, listened, and felt present. There were moments I grew a tad envious of these characters and their stage of life. These assholes are in college, how much easier can your life get? But it wasn't easy. And I was reminded of how lucky and unlucky, and how much luck really had nothing to do with it. As the book progressed, I craved to read something that would strike a new nostalgic nerve. Walking on the path to class. The cafe smell that seemed to linger on your clothing for days. Your stomach's reaction to the shack attack. Relationships that meant nothing and the ones that meant everything and still do. Questions about life after college and becoming an adult. And then a little bit of school in there. And when I stopped being jealous, I allowed myself to relate. I was even unsure about what these characters should do next. The beautiful thing was that there was no exact wrong or right discuss to be had. Sure it was a fictional piece, but there was nothing really laying in "fate's hands." It was about a young heart, and inexperienced mind trusting his intuition for the first time. How inspiring. We look at our younger selves, we see younger people, and think how in the world did I mention to get anywhere? With trust. Putting ourselves first. Knowing what we want. Ultimately listening to ourselves. This book was a great reminder of these things--of our true abilities, our real ambitions, our response to living with a purpose.
The book became such a great piece to read. It never lost its edge because of his format and approach to the story. It was written with an omniscient narrator, so there was total access to get into the nitty gritty of the characters' actions and thoughts--PLUS a first person narration of a public blog, written by the love interest, (who doesn't really know she's the love interest of this story), Annabelle. I loved that this part was written as a blog because it switched speeds from the main narration and got me personally excited once I reached the end of the chapter so I could read her . Because Annabelle writes as herself, arrives as herself, is her authentic self--something at the age of 22 I cannot even fathom.
The reason it was so important for me to read this book was because first and foremost I wanted to support him. The second reason was because I was a witness to his journey and just had to know the ending! Believe me, it became way more than that. While writing to complete his book, he stayed in on weekends and stayed up late on weekdays. He took vacation days off from work to "vacation," locked away in his house diligently writing. Within 10 months, he met personal deadlines with great intentions and made this dream of binding a printed self-published book a reality. As a result, he created something and his readers are grateful.
With love,
Miss Baverso ;)