Welcome to Litsy!

This is the September bookclub pick. Loved Amor Towles "Gentlemen From Moscow" and "Rules of Civility" but reading "The Lincoln Highway" was like watching a Wes Anderson movie when your not in the mood.

Set in Ireland (and I have a weakness for Irish settings 😂) so this is my pick for September‘s #fictionaltraveler!

First, this is a YA story. Characters are 17-18. So naturally they will behave like how normal teenagers would. They are childish, selfish, cringy, annoying & irritating to adults. So if you get easily annoyed by teenagers or teen characters, don't read it. You'll find it boring and frustrating & I don't want these tags to be associated with this beautiful & bittersweet story.

Inspiring, entertaining, and surprisingly informative (about social history, history, and just plain quirky facts); sailed through this in a day. (Of course it was a day with no responsibilities, so easier.) #letterR #LitsyAtoZ @Texreader

Besides the inspiration of her ride, I‘m learning all kinds of interesting trivia. Like Milton Bradley getting into the board game business because he printed a ton of this lithograph of Lincoln which was made immediately worthless when Lincoln grew a beard.

Just a great author. This story of reform school boys making a hilarious trip from Nebraska to New York was LONG but I was sad for it to end. Emmet, Billy, Duchess, Woolly and Sally are great characters. Would love to see them come back.

I wish there was a word, and there probably is –when you really enjoy a book, it could be five stars and then something happens to bump down your enjoyment. The something happens here is rather spoiler-y and although I guessed it, I didn‘t like how the other characters just… let the heartbreak happen.

There is still something missing from her books that stop me from loving them (ala Sarah Dessen) and I‘m not sure what it is.

'Look,' I said. 'We went wrong somewhere.'

Martha turned her head and couldn't believe what she saw. On the horizon, in all its unreality, was the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

'It's tiny,' she said. 'Like a replica in an amusement park.

"That's it all right. I can say with some confidence that we're not in Florence.'

Image via Wikipedia.

What are you supposed to write....When tanks are rolling into cities where friends of yours live? What are you supposed to write when you realise you don't understand the world any more - I mean in an absolutely fundamental way - when all your certainties collapse, when you realise that the bubble you live in is just that, a bubble that could burst any minute?'

'Something feels off. There's something up with him.'
'Hardly surprising under the circumstances, is it?'
'No, something else. I don't know what.'
We listened to his breathing. It was fitful, with long pauses between gulps of air.

"The appointment is tomorrow at two,' I said. 'And tomorrow is tomorrow, even if we get there today.'

'Fucking physics'.