
I just finished John Grogan’s second best-seller, The Longest Trip Home. It was no Marley and Me but the book had similar bio-rhythms. I read for 2 weeks, laughing most of the time, and only in the last two days reading the last quarter of the book, when the story started winding up the two weeks worth of invested stories, did things change and every page was a tear-jerker. I remembered my family, especially my Dad, most of whom I only see a couple of days a year.
Marley and Me was similar. For the better part of both novels, Grogan would continually regal you with stories, casting his fishing lines long, as long as it takes. Then, right when you least expect it–usually when you can’t wait for the next laugh trip you’ll get–he gives those lines a quick effective tug and you are hooked.
Then he reels you in. All the comedy he put in was an investment. He was setting you up (almost mischievously). He was making sure that as certain events happened in the end, you’d know the emotional significance. When robust people change or even passaway, you feel it. He doesn’t need to write when is is sad that it was sad because you know it’s sad. You know because you know the characters intimately. You’ve been spending the last two weeks laughing at them, and sometimes with them.
I was being reeled in these last two days and wheeew! What a story!!! Now, I understand.
For the rest of the books I’ve read and most of my reviews of them check out my goodreads profile.
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