I know that I’ve told you how much I absolutely adore Jodi Picoult’s books before…
or atleast I think I have mentioned it.
There is something so similiar in how I feel when I read one of her books that reminds me of myself and a bag of Jelly Belly jelly beans…
Once I have a little taste, I can’t stop until the bag is empty, or it is all I think about. No matter where I go I can’t get the image of a tiny juicy pear or bright orange peach or shiny strawberry jelly bean out of my mind.
When I start reading one of her books I always have trouble putting it down, and the next thing I know I am lying in bed with a flashlight, frantically flying through the pages, trying to find out what happens at the end of the story.
The difference between JP’s books and a bag of jelly beans though is that I don’t have nightmares after eating the candies. I don’t cry when I eat those sweet little morsels either. Nor do I feel the need to discuss the tastiness of jelly beans with others like I do after one of JP’s messed-up-plotlines.
Example: The Pact… holy crap nightmares for a week
I am going to try to read all of her books – even the ones that I’ve been told aren’t as great as the others.
Well, I might leave out My Sister’s Keeper because I had some emotional issues/ties to the story when I swa the movie.
My sister in law cracked me up when she told me why she doesn’t read books by Jodi Picoult…
Me: Do u like jodi picoult?
Sister in law: No…her books are like razor blading your eyes and then pouring lemon juice into them. Why would you inflict that much pain on yourself?
What do you think it is her books that keep us coming back for more?