If you were to ask me how I define my taste in books, I would say this: my favorite books are the ones that make me genuinely feel something (yes, I’m depressed, why do you ask). In reading this book, when Lily felt hurt, I felt hurt (and I looooooove love love feeling hurt when reading, I’m a sucker for angst). I think part of that emotional depth comes from Lily’s personal relatability (which I’ll get to), but I also think part of it stems from the character development itself. The characters are written in a way that makes you care about them. It makes for a lovely, heartfelt, genuine story.
Honestly, I think one of my favorite parts about this book is Lily’s characterization. I adore female-centric books, but I sometimes have a hard time relating to the female main characters, because there seems to be this unspoken rule in fiction that all female characters have to be written as bold and steady and unafraid to challenge the status quo in order to be perceived as “strong,” as true heroines. That’s wonderful, we love that type of strong female character. But as a shy introvert with crippling anxiety who cries a lot and prefers silent reflection over verbal quips, there is only a certain extent to which I can relate to that type of head-on strength in a character; that representation of strength only accounts for a very narrow portion of feminine strength as a whole. Sally does a phenomenal job in this book at relaying the message that there is strength in softness as well. Women can be brave and fearless and awe-inspiring AND painfully shy, quiet, anxious, and prone to crying under duress. Strength and gentleness are not mutually exclusive traits. I think Sally understands that, and I think her storytelling is stronger for it. I know I’m focusing a lot on the female aspect of this story (spoiler alert: I am, in fact, a female), but it’s important to mention that this applies to the men in this book as well- yes, Dean is strong. Yes, he is muscular and able to throw a punch. But he is also gentle and kind. And I don’t think his character would resonate nearly as much with readers if he was physically strong and stereotypically “heroic” but didn’t have that softness to him, which is something to think about.
As a whole, I would say this book is certainly worth reading (and I say that as someone who generally doesn’t venture much outside of reading fantasy). A huge thank you to Sally for the eARC, which I will treasure forever (however, I want to emphasize that this is an honest review, and the fact that I was given an eARC had no effect on my overall rating). This book owns my heart. I can’t wait to read the next part of the story (especially after that ending, @Sally where you at, I just want to talk).
I’ll leave you with these final thoughts: Dean is the quiet warmth of a bookshop in a bustling monochrome city (although I’ll tell you what, I’ve never had the urge to punch a bookshop before, so one specific part of this book was a first for me), Lily is the soft glow of a candle on a cold winter night, Seb is the first ray of sunshine after a heavy storm, and Kira is a plant slowly wilting in the dark that needs only a bit of sunlight (say, the type after a heavy storm…) to bloom back to vibrant life. They should all be protected and cherished at all costs.