Published by Self-Published on 03/12/2017
Do you remember me?
Of course you don’t. So I’m going to give you a refresher course.
I’ve known you for years and years. We used to have beautiful conversations. There was no one that knew you better than me. We were handmade for each other.
Lately, it’s become achingly obvious you’re miserable. You’ve moved back home to take care of your ailing mother. You’ve been looking for a new job, but that’s not going well. Admit it: it’s all too much.
Everyone around you sees your suffering, but they’re not willing to help you.
Everyone but Jackson.
He comes into your life at the perfect moment and offers you everything you could want: a shoulder to lean on, love, and most importantly, hope.
But there’s no one that can compare to me. You seem to forget that I’m your figure 8. Your infinity. You try to run, but I will always find you.
Well, that was not what I was expecting. After reading the very vague yet intriguing blurb for Figure Eight, I knew it was something that I wanted to read even if I was completely unfamiliar with this author’s previous work. Now having finished it, I am itching to grab her backlist and devour it.
The way I would describe this story is that of a giant ball of yarn. On the surface it looks like many strings that are a tangled mess but on closer look that mess is one piece of string tangled up on itself. But where do you begin to figure it out? It seems endless until you discover that one little loose piece. When you start to pull the string you see that more you pull, the faster it unravels. You pull and pull and as you’re left with the unraveled pieces in your hands, unsure what to make of it, you’re also determined to figure out what is at the end.
I couldn’t stop pulling that string. The more I pulled the more I wanted, even if so many parts of the story had unfolded that I didn’t know what to do with. I had to keep going despite how fragile those unraveled pieces were. It was brilliant and completely mesmerizing. I turned the pages frantically as my stomach was a knotted mess. I kept asking myself over and over “what the hell is going on?” I couldn’t figure it out but then somewhere near the last third of the story, as that ball of string got smaller, I could see what was happening. But, I still couldn’t get my emotions in check. They ranged from confusion, to elation, and darted back and forth between curiosity, empathy and sometimes even fear. It was fucking great.
Figure Eight read relatively quickly. The writing was so consuming that I couldn’t even believe the pace I was keeping as I was utterly lost among the pages. However, despite the pace, this story was fraught with vivid imagery and distinct characterizations, nothing missing or overdone. The tone was also incredibly consistent. There seemed to always been sort of a sickly dark shadow hanging overhead as I chased down the conclusion.
Okay but the romance, what about the romance?! You mean sex, yeah? Well…there’s
not much none. I KNOW! But in its place are moments that carried a quiet tenderness that stirred flutters in my belly. And really, the content that this story is centered around is so affective and needs to be addressed delicately, that had this story been riddled with erotic scenes they would have felt clumsy and tasteless. That tenderness I found among the story was more powerful than a hot and sweaty sex scene and compliments the story’s fragility.
Anyway, it was really fucking good. We can just say that sometimes, right?
I definitely recommend. If you read it, I urge you to come back so we can discuss.