Author: admin (Page 12 of 51)

This was one of those films where the trailer looked awesome but I was mildly worried about the actual film. The groundhog day sorta plot has been used a lot and to mixed results. It’s so easy to have a boring film with lots of stuff repeated too often, so I went to see this one with a bit of trepidation.

I’m so glad I saw it. if the lego movie hadn’t been so awesome it would be my favourite film of the year so far (seriously, what’s not to love about a bad-ass chick with an epic sword? <—).

Plot wise, it wasn’t totally special. Every time the guy died the day reset back to the morning where he woke up. Nothing new there, not really, but the aliens were a fun new take and the ‘how do we save the day’ part of the plot was actually really interesting and complex with several twists I didn’t see coming.

The movie was super tense in places, despite the comfort in the back of the mind that he would just wake up again when he died, so serious kudos to the director and actors for that one.

Character wise I think this was some of Tom’s best acting. He really handled the transformation from bumbling, totally scared into the battle-hardened tank he is by the end of the film. And all because of Emily Blunt!

She was by far my favourite part of this film. A strong female character who actually had some depth, wasn’t the damsel in distress at any point in the film. Even when she sorta was and he tried to treat her that way. She knew what she had to do, why she had to do it and didn’t let anyone get in her way.

My only complaint is this one few seconds they kept repeating of her (<—). I’d have had no complaints about this films portrayal of women (for once) if they hadn’t included this dumb clip that was obviously meant to be a ‘look, we have a hot woman in this film’. It was totally unecessary and really didn’t need to be repeated so often either.

Otherwise, epic film, epic characters and epic remix of an otherwise naff plot.

A few minutes drag by as you sit in the heat, fanned by a servant or slave. You’re not sure which, just that they often attend you. As you feel even hotter you fidget and look at Temullgei to see if he’s really sleeping or you can talk to him to distract yourself.

His eyes open as soon as you turn to him so you give him an apologetic smile.

“Lean back and we’ll talk then,” he said. With an even broader smile you settle down next to him and wriggle to get comfortable. Immediately your servant shifts to fan you better in the new position.

“What should I expect to happen when we reach… our destination?” You ask, forgetting what he’d called the place and people there.

“When I present you to the Khaadain?” He says. You nod. “They will talk with you. Ask you questions about where you’re from and then prepare you for the ceremony.”

“What happens in the ceremony?”

“Little to concern you. You will be presented to any Khaads currently dwelling there. Normally the Angel is offered wives, but you will not be allowed multiple husbands. I will speak to the Khaadain about this before the ceremony. You will be given slaves and gifts, male and female and then there will be a feast in your honour. From that point on, you will have the choice to join the Khaadain, if you take no husband.”

“I won’t be returning home?” Disappointment runs through you. You’d already suspected you might be stuck here but a glimmer of hope had flickered within you. He shakes his head.

“None of the other Angels ever managed to leave, although most looked for a way home. You are here with us forever. I hope you can be happy here, Angel.”

“So my choices are to marry or join the Khaadain?” You ask, getting back to the life he was describing for you.

“Not exactly. You could choose neither at first, but I do not recommend you delay the decision.”

“Why not?”

“If you join the Khaadain, you become a devoted mother of all our people. No man may lie with you without breaking our most sacred laws, so you will be safe from all the Khaads. If you marry, your husband will also protect you, until he dies and you join the Khaadain, or choose to marry again.”

“So the Khaadain are women who’ve been married, or won’t ever marry?” He nods and smiles at your understanding before continuing to answer your previous question.

“For the most part, yes, although our eldest men will live amongst them if they grow too old to ride. But if you do not marry and do not join the Khaadain the men may fight over you. Unmarried with no father here to speak for you, you could be claimed by any man from any tribe. I can keep you safe within my tribe, but we would have to leave the Khaadain if another tribe appeared to ensure no man forced you into his bed.” Temullgei’s words had the desired warning. You shiver at the thought of what might happen to you.

“So I need to choose a husband, or become a nun…” This is the first time that being an Angel to these people has had a downside. You like neither option.

“What is a nun?” he asks when you say no more. You chuckle.

“Where I come from, it is someone who devotes herself to a religious belief, never marries and never even has trelair, for her whole life.”

“This is something you will consider?” He raises his eyebrow and you laugh as you realise he didn’t pick up on your sarcasm.

“Very few people wish to become a nun. It would have to be one of my least favourite options. But I also don’t know any of your people well. I’m not sure I could choose a husband right away.” You sigh and shake your head. “Is there really no way I could go home?”

“I know of none.”

“Then how does marriage work with your people? Your men can take many wives?”

“Yes, although a man with more than one wife must treat all kind and provide for all. We often have more women than men and it ensures all are protected.”

“So my husband would protect me?”

He nods and sits up a little, not taking his eyes off you.

“What is expected of a wife?” you ask, wary that their answer isn’t likely to be one you like. The culture around you is primitive compared to your home and you have heard the horror stories of how women were treated in the past. As Temullgei sat up your fears grew worse.

“It depends on the husband. If she is married to a Khaad, she is expected to take responsibility for the tribe as well as the Khaad, especially the other women. If the husband has no slaves she is the cook and does many other tasks, but you will not have to worry about that. All the men who make an offer to you will have plenty of slaves.”

“Anything else?” you ask, prodding for more information. He looks thoughtful for a moment.

“You will hopefully bear children. It is a great honour in our culture to be a descendant of an Angel. Most Khaads are.”

“And what about trelair?” At this question of yours he furrows his brow.

“Of course it is expected. How else would you bear children?”

“I mean. Could I say no to my husband if he wants trelair?”

“Why would you want to refuse trelair?”

“Where I come from, if a wife wants to, she can say no. That way the husband cannot hurt her or abuse her.”

“Ah, you are worried about being hurt in this way?” he asks as understanding finally dawns on him. You nod. “Some men will hurt a wife in this way, but few. Most understand it does not lead to a happy marriage.”

“But a wife can’t say no if her husband is hurting her?”

He shakes his head.

“But many men will not do this. I would not hurt… my wife.” The pause in his sentence makes you glance at him. It seemed a lot like he was going to tell you that he wouldn’t hurt you, but changed his mind part way through the sentence.

“How many days until we arrive?”

“Less than two.”

“And my options once there, are either to marry someone I don’t know, or become a nun?”

“There is another option. We know each other a little more and I would be able to keep you safe as my wife.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

He nods and smiles.

What do you do?

Say yes.

Say no.

–

This story is entirely free to the reader and will continue to be throughout, but as you might have gathered from the website around this I make my living from writing fiction. This post is over 1000 words long and took me a few hours to write and polish. Although it’s definitely not a must, if you enjoyed this and want to say thank you in a monetary fashion please consider becoming a patron of mine at Patreon (a lot like kickstarter but more of a pledge per episode/installment sort of thing). You can also say thank you by sharing this with friends who might enjoy it or dropping me a message here or through my email address.

I was gifted a copy of this ebook by the author, David Bell, in return for a review.

When I read the prologue of this (told from the point of view of the dog) I wasn’t expecting this to be 100% serious and adult, but that’s normally fine. I like a good laugh as well as the next and I love dogs so no issues there.

The plot in general is a pretty interesting one and I didn’t have any problem with that side of things. It’s a pretty awesome medievil sort of adventure story that spans a big part of the globe. I also thought, for the most part, that the characterisation was pretty good. A few of the characters were a little cardboard cut out ish, especially the bad guys, but it could have been a lot worse.

I did find myself jarred out of the story a few times though. I don’t know whether it was because the target audience was younger kids or not, but there was the occasional historical oddity, where I was a bit unsure whether something existed back then, especially a reference to a curriculum vitae.

I also found there were a lot of references to bodily fluids of all sorts of kinds (mostly vomit and crap) and while I found this amusing once or twice, felt it was over done how many times someone got covered in one or the other or ended up with a mouthful of someone elses. I don’t know if it is because I wasn’t the target audience, but I’m not a squeamish girl and got up to all sorts of mischief with my brothers so I’m thinking even for most kids it would be a bit much.

Finally, the thing that most ticked me off about this book was the ending. It didn’t end, it just stopped while the main characters were in the middle of a disaster. Then there was an epilogue by the dog where we’re told there’s more to come in the form of another book. This seems to be a trend in indie publishing and I really really really hate it! Seriously, if you’re story isn’t finished don’t publish the fricking book! I don’t get the logic behind putting out a half finished book, especially when being indie means you don’t have to fit within the word count guidelines of a publisher.

I’d rather have an epic to read than get to the end of a story and find I either have to wait or pay more money just to continue. In those circumstances I usually refuse to buy any more books by that author on principle. I don’t mind a bit of a cliffhanger in a series, where the over arching plot isn’t entirely finished with, but the beginning hook of the book should be satisfied, the adventure that begins should at least be at a good stopping point, like a safe place, the destination (even if more adventures happen at the destination). There should be some satisfaction.

As such I find I can’t really recommend this book, which is a shame, because it’s not badly written and I think a lot of younger male readers will enjoy it, but wait until more books are out, or the series is finished before starting.

This is a topic that’s been well re-hashed but it’s not something that particularly bothered me. For the most part facebook and twitter was something I could regularly come and go from without much of a problem, but lately I’ve noticed a bit of a change.

I’ve noticed that writing at home five days a week often leaves my extroverted nature feeling a little lonely. Normally when I had this problem I would go write in my favourite cafe for a few hours and be amongst the people there even if I didn’t interact massively (It was almost guaranteed someone I knew would be there or appear after a few hours) I would usually feel a little better.

Since I moved house and out of the immediate vicinity of Bath I’ve not found anywhere quite like my old cafe and as such I often spend all week writing at home (It’s also a lot cheaper). This has led to me seeking some sort of social support from facebook and twitter and while this sort of works, this actually mostly makes me feel lonelier in the long run.

I may post something and get a few comments relatively quickly that I can reply to and feel a brief spark of connection with someone, but it doesn’t last long as people have things to do. And even worse, posting something and having it slip into the oblivion of facebooks ‘what we think you really want to see’ algorithim (it happens a lot more than you’d think). As a result I find myself reaching even more for my phone or tablet to check facebook in a cycle of feeling lonely, reach out on social media, feel even worse, try again. Rinse and Repeat and get so little work done you also feel bad about that.

While I say this, I also have to admit facebook and twitter can be amazing. Facebooks groups, especially are great for finding people like you to talk to and get advice from and I can’t count the number of awesome people I’ve found through retweets on twitter. They can be great, but they need to be approached with caution.

This book was recommended to me several times and I noticed it had been made into a film so I grabbed it and had a read.

To start with I felt the book was a little gimmicky with it being narrated by death, but it grew on me and the personality applied to death was very welcome humour to what could otherwise have been a very depressing story.

In terms of storytelling there was a lot I know teachers of writing would have frowned on and a part of my delight in the book was that so many of the writing ‘rules’ were broken. Plot was spoilt by the narrator on several occasions. We were told almost meaningless facts and stories that appeared to have no point, but it worked.

The characterisation the book was superb. Everything felt a little larger than life but it still worked and it was impressively consistent in it’s almost absurdity. I also loved death’s obsession with colour and it led to some of my favourite quotes from the whole book. ‘It [The light] was all the fabric of the curtains allowed. If you’re optomistic, think of it as bronze.

I found myself very touched by moments in the story, especially as it was told from the very innocent eyes of a child within Nazi Germany. So many of these sorts of stories are told from our point of view – The British – who must face the evil of Hitler and be brave, and while this story held to Hitler being evil and often his most violent supporters, it showed the humanity in the every day Germans. They were people who, just like us, wanted to survive, and had to do what they could and make decisions based on the little information their government allowed them to have.

All in all a pretty amazing look at a tough subject, that made me laugh aloud, mostly at its cleverness, but occasionally at its absurdity.

His boldness at kissing you takes you by surprise. In response you go to slap him, but he catches your wrist before you can imprint your palm across his cheek. His grip tightens around your waist, pinning you still and making you think twice about trying to hit him with the other hand.

His eyes blaze before calming. After a few seconds he chuckles.

“You have fire in you, Angel. He lets you go and strokes your cheek one last time. “One day, perhaps.”

Without another word he leaves you alone in your tent again. This time you know it would be better to sleep and get into the fur covered bed. Only a few seconds later you’re oblivious to the world around you, deep in dreams of home.

***

The gentle shake from the serving girl of the day before wakes you from your slumber. She has breakfast and gives you a few minutes to eat while she lays your clothes out. As soon as you push the bowls of fruit and oats away from you she hurries over to clean you up and help you dress.

Once you’re wearing one of the dresses you were given the day before, she beckons you to follow her out of the tent. As soon as you step out of the opening you notice the hustle and bustle around you. Almost all the tents are in heaps of material on the ground and many of the warriors you saw the night before are on their horses, preparing to ride off.

A few metres away, resting on several wooden crates is the litter you were carried in. Your servant ushers you over to it and pulls back the light material for you to climb inside. She follows and moves the cushions to prop you in a sitting position. With that done she takes a skin of water and several platters of fruit from a pair of feminine hands outside and arranges them within reach around you.

After smiling and nodding at you she leaves and pulls the material over to cover you from the already fierce sun. Less than a minute later you feel the familiar swaying of your litter being carried along.

The heat combined with the rocking motion makes you feel drowsy and you sleep away most of the morning, eating and drinking in between naps. While the midday sun beats down upon you from on high, you start to grow unpleasantly hot. You consider pushing back the opening to try and create a small breeze but the tribe stops around you and shelters against the sun quickly form while you sit near the edge of your litter and watch.

You’re then escorted by your serving girl and a couple of younger girls you recognise from the evening before and are taken to a small cushioned area shaded by a small oasis of trees. You sit and are helped to get comfortable. Shortly after two of the girls use fronds of leaf to fan you with breeze.

Nearby Khaad Temullgei hands his horses reigns over to another male rider and converses with a small band of men that often linger near him. Before you look away he glances in your direction and notices you staring. Instantly he stops what he was doing and strides over to you. The men follow, many of them staring at you with stony silence.

As Temullgei gets closer you have to tilt your head back further and further to look up at his face and the sun almost blinds you, forcing you to squint.

“I hope you are comfortable, Angel.” Temullgei says as he sits beside you.

As if dismissed the rest of the men relax and find places to sit around you. Other women and girls rush up to fan them as well. When you turn back to the Khaad you realise he has been staring at you.

“These men are my battle brothers. We have fought together many times and they would die for me. They will protect you as well,” he explains before you can ask. For some reason you don’t feel particularly comforted. A chill runs up your spine despite the sweat on your skin.

He ignores your reaction and leans back beside you, supported by the cushions. You remain upright, watching the slow movements of the people around you.

“Sleep, Angel. It is best in this heat.”

“I have slept too much,” you reply, “All night and most of the morning. I am wide awake now.” He chuckles and you look at him with an eyebrow raised, wondering what amuses him.

“Perhaps you would feel tired now if you had accepted my offer last night.”

As the meaning of his words dawn on you a blush creeps into your cheeks. He laughs more.

“Relax, Angel. I may be the first to take an interest in you but I will not be the last. It is often the way of our people, but I will sleep now, even if you will not. Perhaps you will watch over me and bring me pleasant dreams.”

After giving you a smile, he settles back against the cushions and closes his eyes.

What do you do?

Get up and explore.

Stay and watch over him.

Ask him questions about his people.

Kiss him.

–

This story is entirely free to the reader and will continue to be throughout, but as you might have gathered from the website around this I make my living from writing fiction. This post is just under 1000 words long and took me a few hours to write and polish. Although it’s definitely not a must, if you enjoyed this and want to say thank you in a monetary fashion please consider becoming a patron of mine at Patreon (a lot like kickstarter but more of a pledge per episode/installment sort of thing). You can also say thank you by sharing this with friends who might enjoy it or dropping me a message here or through my email address.

You stop walking and turn to look at him, trying to make it obvious that you have something to say.

“What is wrong, Angel?” he asks before you can open your mouth and speak. You frown and try to think of the best way to tell him that you’re not who he thinks you are.

“I don’t think I’m an Angel,” you say eventually. Instantly he smiles and a moment later he laughs.

“You are definitely an Angel. We found you in the desert just like all the Angels who came before.”

“I understand, but I’m human, just like you.” Your stomach tenses as he lifts his hand to yours and leads you back to the seating area.

“Angel, I don’t think you do understand.” He reaches up and strokes the hair from the side of your face. “It is possible you are not an Angel, but you should not create doubt of this. It is better for you to allow the attention and the… protection I can offer.”

You gulp but don’t interrupt.

“The Angels before have all come from another land, a distant one none of us have ever seen and they have all appeared suddenly, with no warning to them and little to us. Another is mentioned, one who unites all our Khaads under one banner. Your beauty could well do this for us.”

You shake your head.

“I cannot pretend to be an Angel, if I am not one. I don’t know how to lead people.”

He frowns again but doesn’t speak, instead studying your face.

“You are from elsewhere, are you not?”

“Yes, a place called London in England.”

“And you came here suddenly, with no idea why?” You nod, seeing where he is going. “You are pale, like all Angels before, and you are of good character. We are talking of this because of your desire to be honest. This is all my people know of the Angels. No one lives who has ever met one.”

“You think I’m an Angel despite my fears?”

“Yes. If you are not one, you are so alike, you should be. And when we see our Khaadain I will present you as an angel, promising its truth to all present.” He lifts your hands and presses the backs to his lips, one after the other.

“You have a lot of faith in me.” At this he laughs again.

“In your beauty, yes. And now in your honesty, but this must never be spoken of again. You are an Angel, and for your sake, I ask you not to declare otherwise.” He lowers his gaze and shivers. “The thought of what might happen to you if the tribes decide you’re not… I would not be able to protect you, Angel. Many men would fight over possessing your beauty and you would be consumed by the victor. I cannot bear the…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence but trails off again. After a few seconds he regains his composure and looks up into your eyes.

“Thank you,” you say and smile. Although you still don’t feel sure you’re what his people think an Angel is, he has made you feel less deceptive. If he is convinced that you’re as much an Angel as the people who came before you then it bodes well that others will think the same thing.

“I have been neglectful of you. I should not have left you earlier without explaining our culture and beliefs to you, at least in part. I offer you my apology and ask your forgiveness, sweet Angel.”

“You’re forgiven,” you utter, not even pausing to think about it.

“Good.” He pulls you to your feet. “Tomorrow I will sit with you and explain many things, but the night is passing and I am missing the time for trelair and sleep.”

“Trelair?” you ask.

“There is no direct word in your language. It is the time men have with their wives and female slaves, when they give way to desire and passion.”

“Ah,” you say and find your cheeks flushing. “I am sorry for keeping you from your wife.”

“You are not keeping me from a wife.” He grins. “I have many slaves from my conquered enemies but no wife. I can choose one of them if I wish to satisfy trelair when we are done.”

“Then do not let me keep you here longer.” His calmness while talking of such a subject makes you feel even less comfortable and you almost hate yourself for being so British, and so bright red.

“Would you like to choose one of my slaves for trelair? I have many men and would be honoured to gift one to you. Or women, if you would prefer…”

“Uh, no, I’m fine. Thank you, but no. I couldn’t. Not a slave.” You shut your mouth, realising that if you leave it open, you will babble until he interrupts.

A second later a smirk crosses his face and he surprises you by moving forward to press a swift kiss on your lips as his arms wrap around your waist. He pulls his face back to look into your eyes but doesn’t let go of you. It occurs to you that he may have taken your objection to having a slave as a suggestion that you wanted something else.

What do you do?

Kiss him again and find out what trelair means.

Pull out of his arms and explain that you’re not that sort of woman.

Slap him.

–

This story is entirely free to the reader and will continue to be throughout, but as you might have gathered from the website around this I make my living from writing fiction. This post is just under 1000 words long and took me a few hours to write and polish. Although it’s definitely not a must, if you enjoyed this and want to say thank you in a monetary fashion please consider becoming a patron of mine at Patreon (a lot like kickstarter but more of a pledge per episode/installment sort of thing). You can also say thank you by sharing this with friends who might enjoy it or dropping me a message here or through my email address.

Another classic has been devoured in my quest for more books. This time one of the Bronte sisters fed my addiction.

I first saw Jane Eyre only a few months ago and it happened to be the version pictured to the left. Normally I try and read before I watch but teh acting was fantastic. As usual I loved the book more and found it very easy to read considering it was a classic.

I felt for Jane very easily, loving how she handled being a child and growing up in the school that seemed to double up as an orphanage. The version I saw glossed over this stage in Jane’s life which is a shame as it contained some of my most favourite parts. Her friend was amazing and presented a very interesting viewpoint in life.

The part in Mr Rochester’s house was almost identical and I found myself imagining what I’d seen. Jane was calmer and more forgiving than I could have been. I also totally adored the banter between her and Rochester. His continued teasing that she was something other than human and had bewitched him was very funny and had me laughing aloud and reading parts to anyone who’d listen.

Finally the book really excelled in making me hate the missionary near the end of the book. I won’t plot spoil but I found myself yelling aloud that he was a manipulative so-and-so and didn’t deserve even an ounce of respect from Jane. He was amazingly described and with Jane’s thoughts and feelings made clear by the author it was very easy to see how he might make her feel but I’m glad she made her way through and ended up in the right place. As all good romances should end.

I think this is going to go on my list of all time favourite classics. I loved every page and will definitely have to read it again. Even writing this makes me want to read it again and I’ve only recently finished it.

All three of the above things are a big part of being successful in any creative or business field so I thought I’d talk about all three, what they are, how they fit together and how to make the most of them, especially from a creative perspective.

Dreams are the things that make us get excited and buzzed, they’re a big part of living life and pretty much everyone has them. Often they consist of things like getting married and having kids but they also include things like writing novels, making movies and starting a business.

From that point dreams can get even more specific. You can dream of starting a business that eventually makes millions a year, or owning a bookshop chain across the country, or making the NYT bestseller list with a novel. They’re still dreams though as a lot of different factors need to come together to make them happen and not all of them are in your control.

Goals are milestone markers on the way to getting your dreams, but controllable by you. So if you were starting a business, the first goal might be to get your product and unique selling point defined, your next goal might be have your product in a shop of some kind, the next might be obtain an advertising plan so people can hear about you.

If you were doing something creative, it might be get a gallery worth of finished paintings, or write a series of novels. Either way, goals should be achievements that get you closer to those dreams, but something you can control and see yourself getting towards. It should be something relatively measureable, but it can still be a long-term thing and take years of effort to get to.

That’s where to-do lists come in. Sometimes each goal is huge and breaking it down into a list of tasks to tackle one by one can make the dreams and goals come closer inch by inch. It gives you something to focus on today in the here and now that isn’t as scary and overwhelming as dreaming of the NYT bestseller list or a million pound company.

Say that you’ve got your product and know why it’s good but you aren’t sure how to get the shop side of things going. The to-do list would make that easier. You can break down your goal into tasks, like:

• Approach ‘this relevant’ shop chain about stocking your product.
• Research the cost of getting a website set up to sell through.
• Get website set up/Raise funds to pay someone else
• Set up a facebook page that takes orders (or other useful social media)
• Set up an Ebay account to sell through
• Promote a launch event either physically or digitally (dependent on product)

Some of those can be broken down into smaller tasks again, but it gives the general idea, and each day when you get up you’ll have something you can work towards without worrying about how far you are from the dream. Before you know it you’ll have some of those goals passed (I fully believe in rewarding yourself at each milestone), and be well on your way to seeing your dream become a reality.

There will be tough days, there always are when you’re chasing dreams, but on those days I try to make sure a little something is done towards the goals and to-do list, even if it’s just to write a few more words of a story. Every day chipping away adds up until, step by step, you’ve reached the end. I personally don’t like making to-do lists, but time and time again, making one has helped my brain get through the fog of having a goal and feeling like I can’t get there. And there’s something amazingly satisfying about ticking things off to-do lists.

So if you have something that you’ve always dreamt of, work out what the exact dream is, break it down into milestones along the way and start making a to-do list of tasks to get you to that first goal. Then every day until you reach that goal, do something towards those tasks. And most importantly, keep dreaming.

I was given a copy of this book by the author, Lainy Lane, in return for a review.

It didn’t take me long to work out that this was at least inspired by a true story and I felt this added a lot to the realism of the mother’s grief and pain. By far they were my favourite chapters in the book and were written incredibly well.

While I liked the chapters set in heaven, I felt there was a little bit of a strangeness to them. There was evidently some ideas about heaven that were taken from the Bible and were consistent with the Christian view of what heaven will be like, but on occasions these felt a little like they contradicted with the characters learning to be Guardian Angels, so I felt a little let down by this.

I also didn’t like the ending. I had to read the last chapter a couple of times to work out what the mother and father were actually doing. The first time I read it, it sounded like they were going to buy a new house, but on reading again I guess they probably weren’t, but I’m still not sure what they were getting up to and felt the endings from both points of view were incredibly abrupt. I know it’s because there’s a sequel, but this is one of those occasions where I really feel that it should be all in one rather than split across several stories.

So to sum up, incredibly moving and well written from an emotional perspective, but a bit confused by the plot and what the author is trying to say from the fiction side of things.