Susan Beth Pfeffer has somewhat of a classic on her hands here. I've read some good books this year, but this one sucked me in more than a book has done in a while. First, it's Miranda's narrative voice. She's so real, I feel like I am her. The more I read, the more I had to read. The more I felt as though I was in the story, and I was shocked to look up and see there was still electricity. I felt guilty eating lunch today, and I started to plan what I would buy if a store opened again.
Through Miranda's voice, I felt as though the world was covered with volcanic ash and the sun was shrunken from the new overwhelming size of the moon.
And yet as quickly as I started it, the book was over. I'm not sure that 337 pages have ever gone faster.
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