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370 pages, Hardcover
First published March 24, 2015
“You don’t wanna go out of this world with regrets. If there’s something you want to do, you do it. You take this life by the balls and you tell it that you existed.”In many of the cities of the world people are looting, attacking, and destroying everyone and everything. One of our main characters, the artsy Eliza, takes photos of the havok and creates a blog, that blows up. Everyone subscribes and she is a pre-apocalypse celebrity. The idea of a blog that shone a light onto problems in the cities and schools during this time was really interesting. I loved how badass Eliza was when she was threatened at school, walking into protests, etc. just to get the perfect photo.
“...the fundamental rule of life: Things were never so bad that they couldn’t get worse.”The ending of the book was really what saved it for me. The last ⅓ of the book was really fast paced and had a lot of character development. If the whole book was as condensed and fast paced as the ending it would have been mind blowing. The characters embraced their differences and came together in the face of death. Everything turned out exactly how it should have. If this book hadn’t concluded the way it did, I would have been thoroughly confused and pretty annoyed.
“Do you think it is better to fail at something worthwhile, or succeed at something meaningless?”All in all I was a bit disappointed by the book but it wasn’t horrible. The ending saved the story and the characters developed really well. I probably shouldn't have made assumptions about the direction of this book. It had similarities to The Breakfast Club that I have loved for years, and I think that tainted my experience of this book. But, there were lots of scenes that I am completely in love with and really connected too. I will probably re-read this book later in life and see how my opinion changes. This book was very off and on for me, some moments were 2 stars and some were 4-5 stars. After a week I have decided on the rating of 3 stars because it is a solidly written book, it just had a few bumps. I will definitely read more Tommy Wallach books in the future.
“The best books, they don’t talk about things you never thought about before. They talk about things you’d always thought about, but that you didn’t think anyone else had thought about. You read them, and suddenly you’re a little bit less alone in the world. You’re part of this cosmic community of people who’ve thought about this thing, whatever it happens to be.”This is The Breakfast Club for a new generation… but where detention is replaced by an impending end of the world, and everyone is possibly going to die…
“Yeah, sorry. I’m having a weird day. Something a teacher said.”Eliza: the artsy loner type who likes taking pictures, and has been branded a slut at school. Her mother’s gone and her father is dying.
“You in trouble?”
“Not like that. It’s hard to explain.”
“Here’s my trick with teachers, right? Don’t ever listen to them in the first place.”
“Brilliant.”
“It’s got me this far,” he said, then popped a whole chicken finger into his mouth.
She believed photography to be the greatest of all art forms because it was simultaneously junk food and gourmet cuisine, because you could snap off dozens of pictures in a couple of hours, then spend dozens of hours perfecting just a couple of them. She loved how what began as an act of the imagination turned into a systematic series of operations, organized and ordered and clear: mixing up the processing bath, developing the negatives, choosing the best shots and expanding them, watching as the images appeared on the blank white paper as if in some kind of backward laundromat – a billowing line of clean sheets slowly developing stains, then hung up until those stains were fixed forever.Andy: skater, stoner, no-hoper musician who’s been pushed out of his mother’s life by her new man.
The chemo did end up slowing the growth of her dad’s tumors, but good news was a weird thing when you were dealing with a fatal illness. Instead of a few months, the doctors gave him a year. This was how you could be lucky without being lucky. This was how you could be a winner and still lose.
So what if Bobo was still pissed off at him? So what if Suzie O thought he was a dick? So what if Eliza was giving it up to some loser with an Afro when Andy probably wouldn’t get laid until he was thirty? None of it really mattered. Today was just another shit day in a life that sometimes felt like a factory specializing in the construction of shit days.And Anita: conscientious student constantly driven by her father towards a career path she doesn’t want, closet singer.
Afterward, her uncle Bobby had told her she ought to think about studying voice in college.They each have things going on in their lives. High-school things, real world things, things that could seriously affect the direction of their future… but then Ardor is discovered.
Anita had laughed. “I don’t think my parents would like that very much.”
“But you’d like it, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess.”
“So do it. You can make your own decisions.”
But that was easy enough for him to say. He wasn’t Benjamin Graves’s greatest investment. And investments weren’t supposed to make their own decisions; they were just supposed to mature.
But no one could stop her from singing in the closet. In the closet, there was no distinction between dreams and reality, no need to choose one path or another. There was just the heavenly lift of the strings, the sharp shriek of the horns, the twinkle of the guitar.
“Wicked, right?” Andy asked.The comet is eight miles wide at its thickest point, and if it collides with the planet it will unleash a force more powerful than one billion nuclear bombs. It’s headed right for Earth, is expected to arrive within 8 weeks, and the odds aren’t great…
Eliza knew what he meant by the word; it was one of a million different synonyms for “cool”: sweet, ill, rad, dope, sick. But for some reason, she felt he had it wrong. The star seemed wicked in the original sense. Wicked like the Wicked Witch of the West. Wicked like something that wanted to hurt you.
“What are they saying?” Misery asked again, and there was a desperate edge to her voice that sent a shiver down Andy’s spine. “Kevin, what the fuck are they saying?”
“I was hoping to find something different,” he said, looking up from the screen. “They’re saying two-thirds.”
“Two-thirds? Like sixty-six percent?”
“Yeah.”
“So two-thirds we all live, and one-third we all die?”
Kevin hesitated, checked the screen again, then slowly shook his head. “The other way,” he said.