My name is Marina. I was born on a Friday of a beautiful day of March. The year was 1991 and the place was the idyllic Rio de Janeiro.Ok, enough with the David Copperfield crap. Although I actually love that book (I would marry Charles Dickens if I had a time machine). I've been reading all my life, honestly I don't know how to do anything else. The prove is that I actually work with books now that i'm a full grown woman of 22 years old! I'm a critic analyst for a brazilian publisher and if you have never heard of this profession...shame on you! Every editor needs a critic analyst. Basically i'm going to use this blog as tool to A) Work on my english!(I can read just fine, but writing is another Hell Level for me. Don't get me wrong, i love the language, i'm graduating on it!) B) Have some kind of control over what i'm reading (out of work) and my thoughts on it. If you want to become a stalker (what would leve me scared and flattered at the same time) here is where you can find me. E-mail email@example.com Blogger http://www.minhavidaporumlivro.com.br Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Marina.blogmvl
Let’s talk about how much I loved...and i mean LOVED this apparently innocent book. In “Making Faces”, Amy Harmon deals with tough subjects of life, those things we rather not think about, specially death and sickness. We are so scared to think about how fragile our life is, that we somewhat become to focus in the wrong things. Shallow things like looks, youth and what people think of us. Although "Making Faces" is a work of fiction, i think the whole point of the story is to create a deep, thoughful study on tragedie and how it affects our internal world, particularly when one lose everything one thought was important. If the walls around us crumble, we (our essence) is the only thing that remains. So you better work on what it is inside you, and care less with package. Essence is, as Harmons tells us in her story, the only thing that can make us endure and survive.
I don’t know why, but I thought I could actually go grossure shopping while reading “Making Faces”. The result was embarrassing. Imagine a girl crying her heart out in the middle of a packed store. I felt that my emotions were being completely playid by this talented author. Harmon uses words like a quarterback throws a bal. Hard, Sharp, Fast. I did not knew what had hit me. We get to know Ambrose and Fern when they were only children. I loved how much I could empathise with Fern’s character. I know how is like to be the shy, bookworm in love with a guy out of my league. Ambrose was more complicated to understand; he is the epitome of the conflicted, tortured hero and his character has much more to deal than Ferns. Ambrose is so caught up in his own pain and guilt, that he can’t see how blessed he was. That’s where Bailey, Fern’s sick cousin, enters the story. Bailey is there to teach Ambrose what really matters in life.
When I finished the book I took a deep breath and lost a few minutes only reflecting on the story, and how much it marked me, leaving me sore, but satisfied and hopeful. Don’t underestimate the book due to the cover and the summary. This is not a hot New Adult book to read and forget. This is a real work of literature.
Now I’m going to crawl into bed and cry some more…