I have been thinking about the awesomeness that is the feeling you get when you had high expectations of a book, and those expectations were met.
Do you know what I mean?
Sometimes it's the fact that I paid more than I wanted for the book, or it's that the last book was so good, I worry like a weird person that the next one won't live up to that enjoyment. But there are times when I worry that my expectations of a book are too high. (I am assuming I'm not alone in this. COMFORT ME PLEASE.)
The last book I felt that mild worry about was It Happened One Wedding ( A | BN | K | ARe ), which I ended up enjoying SO so much. Reading it just made me so freaking happy. I was hoping for awesome, and I got happy, funny, clever, smart character awesome. Hell to the yeah. But yet, that worry was there in the beginning.
I asked RedHeadedGirl, Elyse, Carrie and Amanda if this has ever happend to them, too.
The Heiress Effect ( A | BN | K | ARe ) and Unraveled ( A | BN | K | ARe ) met and exceeded those expectations. (It does not escape me that both of those had happy law related plots by Courtney Milan). Like, I loved Unveiled. I liked Unclaimed okay (but I note that I haven't reread it, and don't really want to). I LOOOOOOOVED Unraveled like I love cake. And I really love cake.
It's a feeling that sits in my chest like a warm, happy weasel, curled up and perfectly content with the state of the world at that instant.
Reading. It's like weasels. Only better!
In movies, Marvel keeps meeting expectations and raising the bar every time. When my expectations are really high, I get nervous and try to adjust them to more realistic levels. But Marvel is like, “Oh, it's too hard to handle a weird character like Wonder Woman? Whatever. We have a space-faring raccoon.” and I'm all, “Oooooooooh”.
In books, I am halfway through A Week To Be Wicked by Tessa Dare ( A | BN | K | ARe ) and I'm just goggly-eyed with joy about it. I thought it would be good, but it's just SO good. Another example is when everyone was talking about Saga, and I read it, and I just about died I was so happy.
I think I'm unusual as a reviewer because even though as a reader I like to read bad reviews (they are often very funny, and they tell me what to avoid and why) as a reviewer I vastly prefer writing good reviews and that affects what I choose to review. Telling someone what I don't enjoy is useful but doesn't make me enthusiastic, but writing a good review makes me incredibly happy. It's because when something is good, I feel so excited about it that I become very evangelical. I want the whole world to read Saga. Now. I think we should all drop what we are doing and go watch Belle again. It's like the author gives me this great present, and the more I pass on the present, the better the present becomes.
Also, warm happy weasels. Really? Weasels? They are sort of smelly, right? I'm thinking more like kittens, personally.
Yeah, maybe they are smelly, but when ferrets do that boneless thing and they curl up and are just the most content little furry things, only with nicer fur (so weasles or minks or something).
I'm not sure I want this statement shared with the world but right after I read something really good – not just an A, but an A+++++++++, it's a warm, contented, emotionally happy and physically relaxed feeling that is remarkably similar (although not exactly the same for obvious reasons) to the feeling after having great sex. Did I just say that out loud?
OH yes. Good Book Noise ™ is very similar to post-orgasm noise. One time I finished a book I just loved, and let out this huge happy sigh, and Hubby said, “So. Good book, then?”
IT SO IS.
Well heck, if it's universal, quote me!
Oh my efffffffffff. It definitely got me into reading historicals again.
Oh yes, I have book afterglow too. In fact I was teasing Maisey Yates on Twitter that Avenge Me was so satisfying I wanted to blurb the book and I wanted that blurb to be “I'll be in my bunk.”
Also I love the Armand Gamache series by Louise Penny. They are mysteries that take place in rural Quebec. You may like them, Sarah. There is no gore, no children in jeopardy. The detective is almost Victorian and it's all very cerebral.
But the writing.
OH SWEET JESUS THE WRITING. Her books are so achingly beautiful I have to pace them out.
So, what about you? What books met your expectations and gave you happy reading ferret weasels? Any books lately? (And do you have a suggestion for what to call that feeling other than “happy reading ferret weasels”?)