Hard to Breathe

I have a few books on my bookcase, just a handful, that I avoid reading. I fully intend to read them someday, but I know I'll have to be in just the right frame of mind. It may sound odd, but there are these rare moments when I get a feeling about a book. I know that it may cut a little too close to that place I keep tucked away in the deepest recesses of my heart. I know when I read it, I'm going to need a recovery period. This is why a few books remain untouched on my shelves until I'm ready. And I decided, just a few days ago, that I was ready to read one of these books. 

I've had The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson for a couple of years. There have been several times I've touched its spine, even pulled it from the shelf and held it in my hand, feeling the weight of it and rereading the synopsis on the back. I've run my fingers over the front of the cover, which is made to look like the edges have been burned. But I always stopped there. I always put it back on the shelf...until now.

I've been reading The Gargoyle for the past few days. I haven't finished it. I am about 100 pages away from the end, and I'm finding it hard to breathe. I was correct in my initial assessment about the book, I know I'll have to recover after this one. I'm putting off the ending because, so far, it's been written so well that I know there will be an unforgettable climax and resolution, but it may just break my heart with its truth. 

So, this is not a book review. It's a book anticipation. I anticipate that I will be unable to write a book review for this book when it is over. It cuts too close, it will hurt too much, and I will not have the words for how this book will devastate me in the very best way.

My advice to you, as a reader? If you don't mind your books a little dark and twisted and deep, you should read it.