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Você é livre para ser quem quiser — mesmo que isso tenha um preço.
Depois de O lado bom da vida, Matthew Quick cria romance para todos que desejam se encontrar Consagrado no Brasil com o best-seller O lado bom da vida, Matthew Quick traz ao público jovem uma ode à liberdade, abordando as complexas questões de identidade que marcam a transição para a idade adulta.
Aos 18 anos, Nanette O’Hare é a típica boa garota. No fundo, porém, ela nunca se sentiu realmente parte do grupo, sufocando em um permanente desconforto com diversas atitudes das amigas e com os padrões sociais. Mas tudo muda quando, no último ano do colégio, ela ganha um livro de seu professor preferido, o clássico cult O ceifador de chicletes, e fica fascinada com a mensagem de que ela pode ser de fato quem é. Nanette se torna amiga do recluso autor e se apaixona por Alex, um jovem poeta que também é fã do livro. Encantada com esse novo mundo que se abre, ela se permite, pela primeira vez, tomar as próprias decisões. No entanto, aos poucos Nanette percebe que a liberdade pode ser um desejo arriscado e começa a se perguntar se a rebeldia não cobra um preço alto demais.
248 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 31, 2016
And then one day you will look for you in the mirror and you’ll no longer be able to identify yourself - you’ll only see everyone else. You’ll know that you did what they wanted you to do. You will have assimilated. And you will hate yourself for it, because it will be too late.
I kept berating myself for being ungrateful, and yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a trick somehow.
I knew I was privileged, but what good was that if I still didn't get to make my own choices? Was it a privilege to be secretly miserable my entire life?








It felt like so many years' worth of anxiety and worry were trying to escape all at once—maybe like an emotional volcano, only my mom and dad, they didn't run away to save themselves but sprinted right into my lava. They both jumped up off the couch and wrapped their arms around me even though it meant touching each other. We stayed like that for a long time, and it felt good—almost enough to justify everything that had precipitated it, but not quite.


“Well, there’s the type of person who says there are certain types of people and then tries to be one type or the other. And then there are others who say bananas to the whole concept of types and won’t allow themselves to be filed neatly away under some sort of ridiculously limiting category.”Okay I'll start with my own-kind of-self pitying story. My summer holidays are going on and I have been feeling really really low on motivation. About doing anything actually. It was so intense, that I was chucking away every other book I picked up. I couldn't read. I KNOW RIGHT? Major catastrophe!
“What type are you?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t believe in types.”
“But you just said there are two types!”
“Those who believe in types and those who don’t.”
“You’re making my head hurt!”
“Bananas!”
“What?” I said, and then laughed.