You begin to shrink inside yourself in order to avoid it all, and, at the time, you want to become unseen to your fellow classmates because being invisible is better than the stares, the pity, the concern. Not only were the stares practically unbearable, but it reminded me every day of what I'd lost. I could also relate to Conor's feelings of being alone, ignored, and being treated 'specially' just because of circumstance. And that's what A Monster Calls did to me in more ways than one. That, right there, is one of the best things that a novel can do, to truly be able to affect a person to a core. I'm not saying that the change for me will be immediate, but this amazing novel by Patrick Ness showed me that it really is okay.

And I learned from A Monster Calls that it's okay to be selfish like that, because you need to be able to say that you want to hold onto the people you love most before you can truly let go. He was my confidante, my every Tuesday night ice cream sandwich 'date', my Trekkie, my best friend. He was my dad the guy that got up every morning early just to tell me that he loved me. But, after this book, I, like Conor, realize that I didn't want him to go, dammit. So for these three long years I've lied to myself saying things like 'it was his time' and 'there was nothing I could do to stop it' all of those things that people want you to say and expect to hear after the death of a loved one. All of the little things that you thought would be indelible really can go away, just in the last couple of months I can't remember what my dad's voice sounds like anymore, and every time I look in the mirror, I see my dad it's a blessing and a curse to look just like him. I never got the opportunity to even see him alive even once on that Tuesday, to let my monster come walking and hold me up with its monstrous hands as I said the words I didn't think I'd ever have the bravery to utter. Beneath all of the sadness from his passing, I've also been horribly mad.

My dad died suddenly, in a span of only thirty short minutes, of heart failure three years ago when I was just fifteen. This book resonated with me so deeply on so many different levels it's just astounding. It effects you on the deepest levels and makes A Monster Calls really turn into what, I think, truly deserves the name of a novel. It drags out your saddest memories and pains, kicking and screaming, makes you look them right in the face and watch them all happen all over again, no matter how much you don't want to.

However, I didn't cry because of what the book in general, necessarily, but because of what it did to me.

You can also find this review on my blog, Cait's Corner!įirst things first: This almost never happens, but I have to admit that I cried at the end of this book I clutched my cute little kitty-kat and bawled.

A monster calls cover