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| Even this cover is freaking gorgeous. |
The Sea of Tranquility by Katja Millay
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Sigh. It's so hard to review a book you love.
I stumbled upon this book accidentally. And I will be forever grateful. I definitely had no idea what this book was about even after reading the description (my own misunderstanding.) But I got sucked in immediately, read it in one sitting, in one day. I might have cried a little. I might have laughed a lot. I might have wished and wished and wished that I had written something this good. I definitely give this my highest recommendation.
Writing Technique: ★★★★★ I love Millay's writing style. She is poetic, artful, profound, and hilarious. I highlighted so many passages, it's almost every page. As a writer, I enjoyed finding great examples of foreshadowing and payoff, pacing, tension, showing-not-telling... This is a knockout of a debut from Katja Millay. I can't wait to see what she offers next.
Plot/Story Development: ★★★★ Millay does a great job gradually revealing the backstories of Nastya and Josh. This story unfolds so beautifully and naturally. I found it very realistic and entirely engrossing. Nastya makes a lot of poor/questionable choices. Josh has a lot of real reactions. One of the most rewarding reads I've ever had. Also the ending is freaking wonderful.
Character Development: ★★★★ Nastya and Josh are two pretty broken people when they meet. As they get to know each other, they both are given a chance to move beyond the terrible pain of their past and try to find some kind of normal. But (spoiler alert? I don't think so, but you might be sensitive...) I love that they can't fix each other. Because in real life, broken people need to fix themselves (okay--in real life, everybody needs Jesus to fix them, in my opinion... but that's another story...). Josh can't heal Nastya. And Nastya can't heal Josh. But they learn they've got to do something just by being around each other. And that is a good character arc, if you ask me.
Message/Theme: ★★★★★ First and foremost, the dream of second chances. Pain/death/suffering/anger/hate/revenge v. healing/life/forgiveness/hope/love/friendship/family. Identity. Heaven. Home. Belonging.
Rating: R for language, sexual content and humor, and violence.
Overall: ★★★★★ I adored this book. I read it twice in five days because I wanted to revel in it again. The writing is beautiful. The characters are compelling and unforgettable. The story is moving and inspiring. I hope to write something this good one day.
Some Examples of Why I Love Millay's Writing:
"How come you call her honey and never use terms of endearment on me?" he fake whines.
"I do," Mrs. Leighton says, patting him on the cheek as she walks by. "Just last week I called you the bane of my existence."
"That's right," he says. "That was a good day."
I have a black belt in self-pity. I was an expert in the field. Still am. It's a skill you never forget.
I am an expert in all manners of therapy. The only thing I'm not an expert in is getting them to work. My parents had me in therapy before I even left the hospital, which is the recommended course of action when the devil finds your fifteen-year-old and the afterlife spits her back out.
Nastya on group therapy:
So that's what it was like every week. I'd sit in a circle and a bunch of people who'd be through as much shit as I had would look at me like I snuck into the club without paying the cover. And I'd feel like screaming and telling them that I had paid it the same as everyone else in the room, I just didn't feel like waving around my receipt.
It was fine when being the Brighton Piano Girl defined my life. when I was making the right choices. When all of my choices were influenced by what my parents wanted me to choose. I let their current steer me, let it smooth and shape me like a stone pushed along the sand until I was perfect. And as soon as I was, I was ripped out of the water and thrown and smashed into a thousand pieces that I can't put back together. I don't know where they go. And there are so many missing that the ones that are left don't fit together anymore.
I think I'll stay in pieces. I can shift them, rearrange, depending on the day, depending on what I need to be. I can change on a whim and be so many different girls and none of them has to be me.
I chose the silence and everything that came along with it because I wasn't a good enough liar to speak.
I'm not sure how long we sit in Josh's truck, holding hands, surrounded by darkness and unspoken regrets. But it's long enough to know that there are no stories or secrets in the world worth holding onto more than his hand.
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