“You don’t love someone because they’re perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they’re not.”\\n
“It is the things you cannot see coming that are strong enough to kill you.”\\n
Anyone who has a child has likely, at some point, engaged in a battle with them at bedtime. That's precisely what I do, every single night. There is an abundance of yelling, crying, begging, and pleading. It's an absolute horror show.
Kid #3 falls asleep instantly, so she's not part of the problem. Kid #2 puts up a valiant fight, whining and throwing tantrums, but eventually succumbs to her sleepiness. Kid #1, however, is an entirely different story.
At night, she's afraid of everything and believes that if she sleeps, something will harm her. But she's not invincible; she has to sleep eventually. So, after being reassured that she's safe, she'll lie down and relax – but only in the master bedroom, as in her mind, it's the only place safe from everything.
Once she's been lulled into a state of blissful unconsciousness, either my husband or I will move her to her room. Typically, this goes smoothly without a hitch. But every now and then, she wakes up and completely freaks out because she realizes she's been tricked. By her own parents, no less. She feels betrayed and doesn't believe us when we swear we won't move her again (because we will, and she knows it). And so, due to her general mistrust, fear of everything, not to mention all the sobbing, she's awake for another couple of hours, at least. The whole situation is highly dramatic and truly sucks.
How does this relate to My Sister's Keeper? Well, not exactly, but I do have a point. Let me explain. I spent years avoiding Jody Picoult's books like the plague. They scared me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because every woman over thirty can't stop raving about them, which makes me think they're probably not my 'cup of tea'. It might even have something to do with the fact that the woman can crank out these insanely thick books as if she's some sort of writing machine from hell. I don't know; it just doesn't seem natural. Besides, no author can write that fast. At least, no good author can, right?
But finally, after being convinced that Jody is actually quite talented and her books are intriguing and worthwhile, I relented and picked up Nineteen Minutes. And you know what? It wasn't horrible. In fact, I kind of liked it. Alright, I admit it – I liked it a lot. It wasn't the best book ever, but it was the kind of book that makes you think and stays with you after you've finished reading it. *shrugs* I happen to like that sort of thing.
So, I immediately picked up My Sister's Keeper. And I liked it too. In fact, I was only halfway through the book when I was positive I'd be giving it four stars. Sure, the subplot about the lawyer and the child advocate falling in love was incredibly stupid, but could I blame Jody for including it? No. I'm sure her target audience expects that sort of thing in every book they read. So, I was willing to forgive it. I even forgave all the cheesy clichés.
Because sometimes, I'm able to overlook stupid subplots, ridiculous clichés, irritating characters (and by irritating, I mean'so monstrous they deserve to die a horribly drawn-out and painful death'. Yes, I'm talking about the mother in this book), formulaic writing – that's a word, right? – and even the lack of good editing when a story has piqued my interest. It happened when I was reading Twilight, and it happened while I was reading this book.
Besides, I'd already come to the conclusion that I'd like this book because I liked Nineteen Minutes. I even had visions of myself adding Jodi Picoult to my list of favorite authors, adding the entire body of Jodi Picoult's published works to my TBR list, and happily reading said books on the beach over summer break – it was going to be so awesome!
But then, when I was nearly finished with this book, Jodi Picoult went and ruined everything. EVERYTHING! I don't even have the desire to finish this book. I feel manipulated, betrayed, lied to, cheated, and totally violated! I also feel incredibly stupid for thinking that Jodi Picoult was a good writer. Because she's not. She totally sucks, and I hate her.
So, even though I've wasted hours of my life reading and thinking about Jodi Picoult novels, it hasn't been all bad. I've learned two things from this whole experience. First, I should trust my initial instincts when it comes to books. Second, I'm an a-hole for lying to my kid. It's no wonder she doesn't trust me, and she'll probably need years of therapy because of it. I wouldn't blame her if she threw me in a really bad nursing home someday.
I gave this book two stars because it isn't horrible until the end. That's when Picoult whips out the most manipulative, unnecessary twist, and thus ruins the whole experience.
Now let us never speak of this again.