This was a letter written after finishing NEVER FADE, the sequel to THE DARKEST MINDS. I couldn’t keep my emotions in for such a long time, and so here they are, incoherently jumbled up.
If you haven’t read the first book of this series, please, for the love of books, go do so.
Dear Ms. Alexandra Bracken,
I don’t have a heart anymore.
That’s because you ripped it in half, shredded it, dunked it in some water, and the chucked it out the flipping window. Into a pit of hungry sharks.
Your two books have taken me on a whirlwind of a ride that I can’t even begin to explain. I am left speechless even days after reading your sequel, and I know, weeks and months from now, I will still be left without words.
There’s just nothing that can physically be said when characters affect you so much they penetrate you to your inner core. You can’t put anything into words when you truly invest yourself in a character, when you and the character are one in the same.
Ms. Bracken, how does this happen?
I’m left dumbfounded after reading your books because I’m so wrought with emotion. My pulse is racing every second as I turn the page, my breathing is uneven, and my heart aches. It hurts. Oh so much, but at the same time, in the best way possible.
There are tears of sadness, joy, frustration, and everything inbetween. One second, I can’t breathe because of an action scene, another, I’m standing on my tiptoes because of the suspense, and in another, my heart is melting from a romantic scene that just kills me.
How does this happen?
How can you create such a visceral world, Ms. Bracken, that I can feel it? That it’s actually palpable? How do you create this tension and suspense that is supposedly not there, but really is?
How does this happen?
Because what it comes down to is this: strokes of ink, created with blood, sweet, and tears, albeit, have the power to completely hijack my emotions. My mind. It’s legitimately ink on a cut down tree that’s causing my heart to almost implode, and I simply can not comprehend how this comes all from a tree, some ink, and your wonderful, wonderful mind. It should be impossible.
The kinds of books you write, Ms. Bracken, the kinds of emotions you create, are the precise reason as to why I read.
I read to lose myself in a character, in a world. I read to find myself in someone else. I read to go somewhere else, to find something new in a place I could never be in.
And your books surpass all of that, and more.
I need an explanation, please. Because I simply can not understand.
Plus, right now, some more books would be nice too.
A Book Lover Who Lost Her Heart To Fictional Characters and a Gutsy Author