My daughter is reading The Outsiders for school and seeing her reading it brought back memories of how much I loved that book. When I was her age (13), reading was my absolute favorite thing to do and I just devoured books. I still love to read but I find myself to be much more critical of what I read. It's funny, this seems to be the theme of my life in some things but not in others. As I get older, I am much more critical of things like books and movies and T.V. shows but a lot less critical of the people in my life or of myself. All in all, I am happy with this but I do miss the ability to lose myself in pretty much any book.
Which brings us to the book that I just finished, The Language of Flowers. It's the story of a young girl's struggles to get past her foster care background. While it was a compelling story, I struggled to get past the constant use of foreshadowing. At least I think that's the proper name, it's been a long time since I took an English course. The book is set up with alternating chapters of past and present which was fine but the author kept bringing up a certain event without telling us what happened. I'm not a big fan of this type of writing. As a matter of fact, if there is too much of it, I get really annoyed and start to feel like I really don't care what happened. Luckily, this author let me in on the secret about 1/2 a chapter before I threw the book across the room in disgust. One saving grace of the book was that I found the use of flowers and their meanings to be really entertaining and informative. I'm really a geek at heart so anytime I learn anything, I consider it time well spent. Also I liked the ending. All in all, if not for the foreshadowing thing, I would probably have loved this book. As it was, not so much.