I'd heard from quite a few people that this book was pretty good...

That may be the most OUTRAGEOUS understatement of all time.

'Pretty good' doesn't explain the embarrassing amount of tears that poured out of me.

'Pretty good' doesn't touch on Lauren Oliver's incredible way with words and imagery.

'Pretty good' doesn't describe the range of conflicting emotions the story sparked in me.

And 'Pretty good' certainly doesn't account for the fact that, once I finished the final page, I literally threw the book at my husband and demanded he re-write the final chapter.

... but the ending is a whole other discussion for which I have no time/energy to get into.

But aside from the infuriating conclusion, this book was out-effing-standing. It had my absolute undivided attention EVEN THOUGH I was reading it while last nights episode of Hotel Babylon was on and I didn't even stop reading when, out of the corner of my little eye, I saw Charlie take his shirt off. NOT EVEN THEN!

Ahem...
So no, pretty good doesn't exactly cover it. But why take my word for it?

"Maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there's a tomorrow. Maybe for you there's one thousand tomorrows, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around it, let it slide like coins through your fingers. So much time you can waste it.
But for some of us there's only today. And the truth is, you never really know."

You see?

It almost got that final 5th star. Almost.

In fact, let's give it a grand total of four-and-three-quarters stars and call it a day.