By Markus Zusak
I want to like this book. I want to like it A LOT. I want to read it and cry because I love the second world war and it's about a book thief. I have every reason to love this book really.
But... I just can't do it. I can't like it like I want to.
It's not bad, not at all, quite good actually. It's beautifully written and the narrator is Death himself (assuming it's a man)
I FORCED myself to read every page, and I just stopped at page 250- something.
It's not bad, but the story is just not for me I guess (which is unfortunate)
~ stay smart, stay chic