“He need to be alone, didn’t want anyone around him this time, didn’t want sympathetic hands comforting him while he cried.”
The flight from Sydney to Melbourne is the perfect length to allow this reader to fully immerse herself into a good book. Most recently it also provided the unexpected pleasure of running into a friend from my youth that I hadn’t seen for around ten years. That, as they say, is another story, now back to the more pressing issue, a step back into the dystopian world of Wool, with its sequel, Shift.
Hugh Howey’s trilogy appears to be quite the favourite, taking up prime real estate in a number of bookstores in which I have found myself perusing of late. There is a solid reason for this. The book delivers on the hype that surrounds it and then some.
It is rare to be so transported to such a different world. The second book exquisitely explores the impact of absolute power and the genesis of the silos from the perspective of those in the know. A markedly different viewpoint from the original story, filling in some sizeable gaps in the reader’s knowledge while still keeping them on the edge of their seats.
Sitting over the wings, the shudder of the landing gear descending gave me pause, I wasn’t getting out of my seat till the end of the book . I thought to myself, those weird noises had better just mean the landing gear needs some oil or something and not be anything serious, I really wanted to find out what happened.
Now I’m cursed with longing for the next and final installment… I fear the call of the bookstore.
5 out of 5 – no more cleaning, this time its about building.