I can unscrew the stars

So, I just finished reading Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston and I am absolutely stunned and heartbroken (not in a way you'd think) all at the same time.

It's wonderful, oh wonderful.

Red, White & Royal Blue is NOT just a book bound in stiff paper and a flashy pink cover at which you'd never bat an eye. It's all glee-filling—the kind of book I'd willingly pluck from the shelves after a cold, dreadful day to warmly huddle around a fireplace and squeal an internal squeal when the cheeky-but-sweet candy heart effect of the book starts kicking in. I have a big, heavy dictionary stowed in the shelves somewhere and a mind that can memorise the entire thing, but none of the words written there seem to really capture it—this feeling of deep satisfaction, like being bodily plunged head-first into a deep, narrow ravine from which is impossible to resurface and then realising that you are, after all, one with the ocean, and your mind does a full-body lurch, suspended in the water, violently shuffling memories like a deck of cards and bitterly wondering why you had chosen to live in the surface when the ocean embraces you better, and then resigning yourself to letting go of the resentful feeling and just be, relieved and satisfied. Do not let it pass and read this book right this instant, but if you're a picky reader like me and take a million years reading reviews to make sure it's The One, then grant me the honor of telling you what the book is about.

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History, huh? *grins*