*This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may receive a small commission, at no cost to you, if you make a purchase through a link. See my full disclosure.
“I close my eyes, already feeling the quickening of my pulse. If this bitch turned off that goddamn television, I’m walking out that front door without shoes on and I’m never coming back.”
Goodbye world, goodbye telephone and goodnight moon.
Confused why I opened up with that? Well, read Verity and then you’ll understand the dilemma I’m in. That story freaking messes with your psyche. I would have never pegged Hoover for the psychological thriller genre, yet she freaking crushed it. My mind is simply a leaf floating in the wind at this point. I’m scattered beyond repair.
Ahgjjfb, how does one even begin talking about Verity? I refuse to give anything away. It’s imperative to go into this without any spoilers. Otherwise, your jaw won’t go slack, your eyelids will continue their normal functions, and your mind won’t press the pause button and scream ‘what the eff’. Trust me, you want all of those things. They’re splendid reactions.
Here’s what you’ll need to know before going into these disturbing bound pages. First, Lowen is a struggling writer who is offered the job of a lifetime…and takes it. Second, Jeremy is a husband to a wife who is no longer truly present after his twin daughters passed away. And third, Verity is said wife. She may not be their in mind, but she’s there in body. And let me tell ya something. She still managed to send chills down my spine, look around my room in paranoia and fear that something would jump out at me (which is a feat in itself considering I’m in a small dorm room and nothing could possibly be hiding in here). Oh and then there was my sanity. I’m not sure how many times I questioned its very existence.
At one point, my foot wasn’t underneath the blanket which is a big no-no when you’re scared. Let’s just say it will continue suffocating until the morning (who got the hidden meaning there?).
Well, those are the bare bones of the story. Don’t snoop around and try figuring out the ending before you’ve even read the first sentence…
“I hear the crack of his skull before the spattering of blood reaches me.”
Alright, you may proceed to the sneaky spoilers.
Joking. Like I Would ever give away spoilers. Pfft, what kind of monster do you take me for? (Again, joking. I’m usually not in a joking mood like this. I suppose it may be due to the facts that it’s 1:30AM and I have an exam today. Yes, that may be it.)
If you’re still not sure whether you should take the jump into Colleen’s eerie bestseller, then wait one second. I’ll give you some reasons.
It’s a psychological mindf*ck. If you find fulfillment in mentally jumping through hoops, then you’ll either propose (to the book of course) by the end or decide to throw it over the North Wall. If I could, I would do both, but then that ending ripped me to shreds. My morals are no longer quite present.
There is a romantic aspect to it. If you’re someone who hates to read a book without a little sultry stares here and there, then you need not fear, Colleen Hoover was there. I mean, come on, Hoover would never let us down in that department (or any department really).
It’s a book within a book. If you’re into the idea of reading a book within another book, then you’ve found your metafictional soulmate. Verity does just that.
One more thing, from the beginning you immediately get an ominous vibe from that house simply from the words Hoover uses to describe it. Honestly, that was one of the initial hooks that reeled me in when I began the book yesterday. Colleen’s a master with those words.
I’d like to leave my review with this fabulous quote from Lowlen. It’s perfect. One day I hope to say the same thing . . . about Amos of course. Oh Amos, you poor unfortunate soul.
“I like to think about Amos when I find myself disappointed with the current state of my life. As I stare at the pink eviction notice in Corey’s hand, I remind myself that it could be worse—I could still be with Amos.”