Â I was really worried when the famous â€˜Message in a Bottleâ€™ by Nicholas Â SparksÂ failed to move me much. Of course it was good, I almost had tears Â at one point when I was mid way through the whole book, but then again, I might have been expecting a wee bit more from the author of â€˜A Walk to Rememberâ€™, that movie I loved the first time I saw it.Â
The fact the 400 odd page affair was done within a matter of a few hours, is not what left me surprisedâ€¦even shocked and sad to some extent. The sad part was that I expected more RQ from thisâ€¦ romance quotient that is, and for a moment, it had me worried.Â
Had I really grown up and grown beyond the gushy mushy feelings a romance could bring in me? Would the skipped heart beats and the fluttering butterflies remain a thing of my glorious (maybe not so very gloriousâ€¦he he) past?! Had the world really taken over me and extinguished that crazy spark of romance that Iâ€™d been guarding so very closely since the first chick flick Iâ€™d read?Â
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Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.
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