Kid Charlemagne Wrote:Read the book a few weeks ago, and have been plotting a review here for a while, but have been too busy to get around to it. I'll preface the review with a small bit of personal history, as it is significant to my enjoyment of the book.

When I started dating the woman who is now my wife, her daughter (Cherith) was two years old. She is now the world's most wonderful six year old, and if any of you has ever had a hard time believing just how much you can love someone who in no way owes their biology to you, I'm telling you that ou would do more than die for them, you'd kill for them. So after I tuck her in for the night, I stretched out on the couch to read this book. The daughter that does (fortunately or otherwise) owe her genetic makeup at least in part to me is now a year and a half old, and though she generally prefers to run wild through the house, exploring everything she can posibly open, move, push, pull, or otherwise alter, she does pile up on one arm (and reading a hardcover book with only your left arm when you are right handed is no mean feat) and drift off to sleep.

So now imagine that you are reading the last bit of this book, thinking about the girl who you would kill for sleeping in the next room, looking down at your baby, angelic in her sleep...and my baby's name...Emaline. One of those times when what you tell yourself is a simple adventure thriller story making you choke up. I think something like an hour and half must have passed between Jack in the hospital and the next page, so intent was I in making sure that I remembered, desperately remembered, exactly what holding this little girl was like when I'm 50, 60, 90 years old.

Thanks, Mr. Wilson for entertaining me (again) and thanks especially for making me remember how god damn great it feels to be a dad.

Matt

Kid Charlemagne Wrote:Yeah, that line was my second favorite part of the book. I actually wrote Walter Becker an email and let him know about it. He tends to appreciate stuff like that.

Matt