I’m still reeling from a book hangover brought by Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, but I find myself wanting to make my to-read skyscraper a little shorter by the end of the month. So right now, I’m
My morbid fascination with serial killers—which is at its height during my high school days—is being reinvigorated by this book. Loving it so far, what with all the Rippermania and the teenage ghost-busting stuff. Also, it is set in London. How can you not love something that is set in London? :p I’m strangely drawn to a minor character at the moment: Alistair, the spiky haired, Doc Martens-wearing Smiths fanboy who hangs out in the darkest corner of the library’s literary section. He had me at Panic, okay? I had to muffle a giggle when he remarked about Morrissey being prophetic.
(SPOILER!) Several chapters later, I found out he’s actually dead and that the 80s look he’s sporting isn’t just a fashion statement, because, well, he really came from the 80s. It explains his musical preferences too. He was the literary editor of their school publication and he died in his sleep…while having an asthma attack. Hits too close to home, if you ask me. He now haunts the library—all contents of which, by the way, he’s read already. Twice.
I’ll probably finish the book later tonight; I only got less than a hundred pages left. :)