Have you ever had a book that gripped you so much, words were almost impossible to write? Well, Colleen Hoover just did that. She actually did that several months ago, but the world just saw this book on Tuesday. Because words were so hard to form, I took some liberties (with CoHo’s approval) and used some of hers. My review of Ugly Love:
Ugly Love, with special thanks to Colleen for the use of her wonderful words:
Ugly Love, Ugly Love, Ugly Love.
I say the name over and over in my head, because I’m positive it’s the name of the next book I’ll fall in love with.
That’s how it is when a person develops an attraction toward an author.
She’s nowhere,then suddenly she’s everywhere,
whether you want her to be or not.
And I want . . . and she is . . .
“We’ve got this, Colleen.” I give her book the appreciation it deserves.
I’m gonna love it
for several months, maybe more.
I tighten my grip on my Kindle . . . and then it kills me. Or it kisses me.
I can’t tell which, since I’m pretty sure they feel the same.
Her words against my screen feel like everything. Like living and dying
and being reborn, all at the same time. Good Lord.
She’s kissing/killing me with these words.
I don’t know what happens to me, but something changes.
Something melts. Something
hard or cold or covered in my own personal armor is turning to liquid
now that I’m realizing what these words really mean.
I feel like I’m nothing but liquid, and liquid
doesn’t do a good job of standing or walking away,
so I don’t stop reading.
“It’s not that I don’t like you, Ugly Love.” I sigh heavily
and run my hands over the screen, gripping the back cover.
“I just don’t want to like you this much.
I don’t want to like any book this much.
I don’t want to read just any book.
I don’t want to love any story like this.
I just . . .”
“I’m attracted to you, Ugly Love,” I say, my voice low.
“I want you, but I want you without any of that other stuff.”
“It’s been six months, Colleen. Believe me when I tell you . . . I’m ready.”
Those all just became my new favorite words, too.
Believe and me and when and
I and tell and you and I’m and ready. Favorites. All of them.
It’s finally here.
I’m reading because I’ll take what I can get.
I’m not Karen when I’m reading Ugly Love.
I’m liquid, and liquid doesn’t know how to be firm or stand up for itself.
If I had a superpower, it would be infiltration.
I would infiltrate CoHo’s mind so I could see every single one of her thoughts.
I just want to breathe, but she’s not letting me. She’s invading.
I don’t think she means to.
She’s just invading my thoughts and my stomach and my lungs and my world.
That’s her superpower. Invasion.
The Invader and the Infiltrator.
They pretty much have the same
meaning, so I guess we make a great team.
“I love you, Ugly Love. More than I loved you yesterday.”
Her words are looking up at
me like they know exactly what I’m talking about.
“If you love me more today than you
loved me yesterday, then I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she says.
Neither can I, Colleen, I confess, neither can I . . .