Holding the man

I just finished reading Tim Conigrave's Holding the Man at 3,30am this morning. It is -- by far -- the best book I've ever read.

When uni finished I decided to by myself a book for graduation, something "gay themed". Since trekking down to a shopping centre of any kind is kinda out of the question at the moment, I ordered my little "gift" online: Holding the Man by Tim Conigrave and Sushi Central by Alasdair Duncan (which I've already read and loved). The package arrived at the middle of last week. I started reading and was instantly hooked.

I was faced with a dilemma: do I keep reading until dawn so I can soak up as much of the book as I can? or do I pace myself and try to spread it out a little so I can enjoy it longer? This is what I hate about good books, the power they can have over you.

I started reading on Wednesday; I loved the characters, I loved the style of writing, I could see why he fell for John. I read a few chapters each night. Luckily I didn't have to worry about being too strict on myself because I was so buggered that I didn't have the energy to stay up all night reading even if I wanted to. Over the weekend I didn't get a chance to read much because I went to Liz's on Saturday night.

Last night I played the "just one more chapter then I'm going to sleep" game for the last quarter of the book. After two and a half hours -- and a quarter box of tissues -- I closed the book and tried to sleep. I haven't cried this much since I watched the movie The Notebook (which hit way too close to home -- my Grandma died in 2003 after suffering from Alzheimer's for 15 years).

It was a difficult book. So if you're feeling strong and love a good bittersweet romance I'd recommend Holding the Man and a box of tissues.

It's excellent.

Que descanséis en paz.