Eleanor and Park is fucking amazing.

I have literally thirty pages left, and I am not falling asleep without finishing them. No way, José.

The book is a young adult novel, with some coming of age, relationships, family issues, music, and love all put in a mason jar and shaken up to a perfect blend of longing and frustration and a sense of hope and tragedy. Does that make sense? Yes. Totally.

Yet another summer perk: getting back into my bookwormy days.



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