The clever descriptives already had me at the mention of colour.
At first I thought, "Okay, the cover is bloody... anything else?" Like, okay, the cover could be better and not seem like a book that belongs to the teenagers section along with Percy Jackson. But to be clear, this book does not belong to that section.
This book is truely amazing. Finally, a sight for sore eyes. A fresh flower among the wilted ones. The descriptive sentences have already pulled me in, forcing me to read line after line to find out more about this strange, new world. So unlike those that try to replicate other worlds of books.
Colour is such a huge attractive factor to me in a book, and being able to describe colour within character or within setting has already stolen my heart.
"The bench beneath Lexi is carved from the translucent white-andblue
stone of the chamber wall itself."
"Her mother sits there
with her head raised high and proud, not pressed into a pillow, its slip
stained brown by the poison expelled from her lungs."
"In that room in
Lexi’s mind, her mother’s hair shines three different fiery colors in the
light of the midday sun, hues for which they made up names when Lexi
was a child. The day Lexi’s mother died, what remained of that hair was
a few wisps gone gray that moved against her scalp like lonely spirits in
bone-white graveyard.
On that day, her last"
The clever descriptives already had me at the mention of colour.
This book is truely amazing. Finally, a sight for sore eyes. A fresh flower among the wilted ones. The descriptive sentences have already pulled me in, forcing me to read line after line to find out more about this strange, new world. So unlike those that try to replicate other worlds of books.
Colour is such a huge attractive factor to me in a book, and being able to describe colour within character or within setting has already stolen my heart.
"The bench beneath Lexi is carved from the translucent white-andblue
stone of the chamber wall itself."
"Her mother sits there
with her head raised high and proud, not pressed into a pillow, its slip
stained brown by the poison expelled from her lungs."
"In that room in
Lexi’s mind, her mother’s hair shines three different fiery colors in the
light of the midday sun, hues for which they made up names when Lexi
was a child. The day Lexi’s mother died, what remained of that hair was
a few wisps gone gray that moved against her scalp like lonely spirits in
bone-white graveyard.
On that day, her last"
The clever descriptives already had me at the mention of colour.