I finished reading Gabrielle Zevin’s The Collected Works of AJ Fikry (AKA The Storied Life of AJ Fikry), when I was at a restaurant. I was so much in love with the book that I wanted to offer my copy to someone there, and force them to read it. 😉 I wanted to pick up a paper napkin to release my stream of gushing praises. On the other hand, I was sad that my world would never be the same again because the book ended.
A bookstore. A morose, well-read, snobbish bookseller. A two-year-old child, who is exceptionally verbal for her age. An enthusiastic sales rep from a publishing house. A kind cop. Their lives are beaded by this most beautiful activity called reading. I wished I could be one of them.
My heart is filled with the beautiful passages, and fascinating bookish insights from The Collected Works of AJ Fikry. But, I am suffering from this strange inability to articulate my thoughts, only because I love this book so dearly. AJ Fikry would agree with me. 🙂
A question I’ve thought about a great deal is why it is so much easier to write about the things we dislike/hate/acknowledge to be flawed than the things we love.
I spent about 15 minutes to gather my thoughts, and write a coherent blog about the book. But, I do not believe I can do that because I insanely adore this gem. If I fail to recognise one tiny, fine aspect of the book, I wouldn’t forgive myself for that.
But, I can bravely say one thing — Your library needs The Collected Works of AJ Fikry. Read it if you love reading. Read it if you love bookstores. Read it if you love bookish conversations. Read it if you believe in random act of kindness. Read it if you love being in love. Just read it. The beauty deserves your time.