Author: Maggie Stiefvater
A personal note:
Although I found Shiver better than Linger, it does not mean that Linger was not interesting. Besides, first book is always the best because they are always the real ice breakers. I enjoy Maggie Stiefvater’s writing in away that it reminds me of lucid poetry. It is very unfortunate that both Shiver and Linger should receive such brutal reviews on Goodreads. Don’t people like poetry anymore? I also don’t understand why people have to take a bitter stance and direct their antipathy directly towards the author who spent days, weeks, months even years to give birth to the novel. There is a difference between bad reviews and negative ones and the latter is much more worse because unknowingly it stifles the creativity of a sensitive author. Constructive criticism is what we are here for aren’t we? To help the author take better steps? It is very sad that such is not the case. I find that some people have no notion about how book reviews are written.
“ Her eye rolled up towards me, black and bottomless, and one of her front legs twitched, a memory of running. There was something awful about terror trapped behind silence. About latent emotions that couldn’t be acted out…
The Ride to Oblivion
It was not like I didn’t panic. I did. Anyone would. Once I came around my senses, I realized that I was being thrown wildly about in the back of a speeding vehicle which appeared quite roomy but I couldn’t really see the details of the vehicle. My pupils were perhaps dilated enormously and the results they gave, was something like looking through a foggy window. My hands were tied but luckily my mouth wasn’t taped. The heart within did a sudden flip and then it started knocking against my ribs with such great force that I gasped for air. It was perhaps because of the chemical I had inhaled earlier, my mind wasn’t going along with the rest of my body. While my heart somersaulted away inside, trying to warn me, my brain went into slow motion. I couldn’t really understand the crux of the situation. Sweat broke out profusely tickling my face as it ran down from the forehead. “Hello? Where are you taking me? Who are you?” was what I meant to cry out. Instead, a series of jumbled words tumbled out of my mouth and I realized that my tongue had gone into slow motion too.