I love Paul Tremblay. For one, I never really know what’s going to happen in his books. He leaves a perfect path that, in hindsight, makes it obvious, but as I’m reading I’m so engrossed in the story and the characters that I can’t begin to fathom what the next move, next action, next sequence may be. And I really love it. It’s twisty and curvy and an absolute delight to read.

I also find his work to be easily digestible, not necessarily in subject matter, but from what I’ve read so far I’ve absolutely sped through his books. This is good.

This is sad. I am emotionally devastated and I have a love hate relationship with the ending— not because it was a bad ending by any means, in fact, I actually loved it, but it just makes me want to tear my hair out a little bit.