Book Review: Harvesting the Heart, Jodi Picoult - & life, etc.

This book was, at the same time, one of my most and least favourite Picoults. The plot took a good 200 pages to arrive, and even when she did start building it, I found myself hating the male protagonist so much that I could barely read his sections. Perhaps Picoult intended for that to happen; after all, the point of view in her books changes constantly, and this one used a first person narrator for the mother, Paige, but a limited omniscient narrator for her husband, Nicholas. After the plot got going, though, I found myself really loving the book; if I were judging the book by its last 150 pages or so, it would probably be my favourite Picoult so far.

Eventually, I found myself rooting for Nicholas and Paige in turn and got really caught up in how the story would end. That's why I read so many Picoults: she draws me into her stories so much that it doesn't feel like I'm reading a novel, it feels like I'm experiencing that particular situation firsthand, so I have to finish it as soon as possible to ensure all the characters turn out all right. I also like her novels because they almost always have some sort of a happy ending. Maybe one or two of the characters settle; maybe a main character dies (okay, that's not quite the happiest ending, but still); maybe everything doesn't happen how I hoped it would. But there's still a string of hope to hold onto when everything else in her novels turns out disappointingly realistic.

I have four books on my shelf from the Bellevue library, which means I have about two more weeks to read them. They are The Road by Cormac McCarthy, Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende, and another Picoult, Second Glance. Whenever I check out library books I have such a difficult time deciding which book I want to read next. I first intended to read the longest novel, Daughter of Fortune, after this first Picoult, but it took me about half a week to read Harvesting the Heart, which was much slower than I intended. I may try to read the other three and give up the Allende for another time; then again, there's not going to be much of a better time than now. I'm on break, but I honestly think I'm busier than I was during the semester. But really, I'm just happy to realize how blessed I am to have so many good novels to choose from in the first place.

It's been a busy (and stressful) half week. So far I've had a bridal shower, written all my thank you's for that (but haven't mailed them yet...), bought my wedding dress, veil, and shoes, planned several other pertinent parts of the wedding (found a minister, venue, finalized the guest list, found a woman who can alter and press my dress before we leave for Pittsburgh, trying to get flights for those attending knocked out right now), purchased the remainder of my Christmas presents, and helped my mom remove various heavy pieces of furniture from our house to be donated to Goodwill. Mom and Dad just got done remodeling the kitchen/living room; it looks great, but it's a been a lot of work so far as cleaning and rearranging the house goes. I know I'm stressed because I have four very painful sores in my mouth, and those only surface when I'm under a lot of pressure. The emergence of four at one time only goes to show just how deep the stress goes.

Tomorrow we're opening presents, then it's Christmas day, and then David (finally) comes. I doubt I'll update until after that, so for now, love to all who may read this and, only because I like the sound of it better than "happy holidays," Merry Christmas!