Where Can I Read 'Things I Wanted To Say' Online?

The protagonist in 'Things I Wanted to Say' is a deeply flawed but relatable guy named Ethan Cross. He's a struggling writer stuck in a dead-end job, haunted by past regrets and unspoken words that weigh him down. What makes Ethan interesting is how he bottles up everything—his failed relationships, his strained family ties, his creative block—until it all explodes in messy, human ways. The novel follows his journey as he finally confronts the things he's too scared to say aloud, especially to his estranged father and the ex he never got over. Ethan isn't your typical hero; he's selfish sometimes, cowardly others, but that's what makes him feel real. His growth comes in small, painful steps, like learning to apologize or admitting he needs help. The book's power lies in how raw and unfiltered his inner monologue is, full of self-loathing but also dark humor.

The ending of 'Things I Wanted to Say' hits hard with emotional closure. The protagonist finally confronts their estranged father in a raw, unscripted moment at his deathbed. All those bottled-up words—anger, regret, love—come flooding out in a messy but cathartic monologue. The father responds with a single handwritten letter, revealing he'd been keeping a journal of his own unspoken apologies. The last scene shows the protagonist burning the letter in a bonfire, symbolizing letting go while preserving the ashes in a locket. It's bittersweet but satisfying, like finally exhaling after holding your breath for years. The author nails the complexity of parent-child relationships where forgiveness isn't neat but necessary.

The main conflict in 'Things I Wanted to Say' revolves around the protagonist's internal struggle with unspoken emotions and societal expectations. As someone who's read it twice, I can say it's a raw exploration of how silence can destroy relationships. The character battles between expressing their true feelings and maintaining the status quo, fearing rejection or backlash. External pressures from family and friends complicate things further, creating a web of misunderstandings. The tension builds as suppressed words start affecting their mental health and key relationships. What makes it gripping is how relatable this silent war feels—we've all had moments where words stuck in our throats.

I just finished reading 'Things I Wanted to Say' and loved every page. From what I gathered, it stands alone as a complete story with no direct sequels or prequels. The ending wraps up all major plot points neatly, leaving little room for continuation. That said, the author has a knack for creating interconnected universes. While not a series, some thematic elements and minor character references appear in their other works like 'Whispers in the Dark' and 'The Silence Between Us.' These aren't required reading but add nice Easter eggs for fans who want more of that atmospheric storytelling. If you're craving similar vibes, check out 'The Last Letter' by Rebecca Yarros or 'Letters to the Lost' by Brigid Kemmerer. Both capture that raw emotional intensity and epistolary style that made 'Things I Wanted to Say' so gripping.

I've been searching everywhere for news about a 'Things I Wanted to Say' movie, but so far, there's no official adaptation. The novel's emotional depth and complex relationships would make for an incredible film, but Hollywood hasn't picked it up yet. I did hear rumors about a production company showing interest last year, but nothing concrete. Meanwhile, fans have created some amazing fan casts online - my personal favorite is Florence Pugh as the lead. If you're craving similar vibes, check out 'The Fault in Our Stars' or 'Me Before You' - they capture that blend of romance and heart-wrenching dialogue that makes 'Things I Wanted to Say' so special.

The protagonist in 'Only Say Good Things' is a deeply flawed but fascinating character named Julian Carter. He's a former investigative journalist who lost his career after a scandal, forcing him into obscurity. Julian is haunted by his past mistakes but finds redemption when he stumbles upon a conspiracy involving a powerful tech company. What makes Julian compelling is his duality—he’s cynical yet idealistic, broken but determined. His sharp wit and observational skills make him an underdog worth rooting for, especially as he uncovers truths that could change lives. The novel explores his internal struggles just as much as the external plot, making him a layered protagonist who grows significantly by the story’s end.

I've scoured every source I could find about 'The Things We Cannot Say' by Kelly Rimmer, and there's no official sequel as of now. The novel wraps up its dual-timeline narrative beautifully, tying together Alina's WWII struggles in Poland with Alice's modern-day journey to uncover family secrets. While some readers desperately want more of these characters, the story feels complete—no dangling threads demanding resolution. Rimmer hasn't hinted at continuing this particular story, though she's written other powerful historical fiction like 'The Warsaw Orphan,' which explores similar themes of wartime resilience. If you loved the emotional depth of 'The Things We Cannot Say,' you might enjoy Kristin Hannah's 'The Nightingale' next—it delivers that same gut-punch blend of love and war.

The ending of 'Only Say Good Things' is a bittersweet symphony of closure and lingering questions. The protagonist, after enduring a whirlwind of emotional turmoil, finally confronts their deepest fears and insecurities. The climactic scene involves a heart-wrenching dialogue with their estranged lover, where truths long buried come to light. The resolution isn’t neatly tied with a bow—instead, it leaves room for interpretation, suggesting that healing is a continuous journey rather than a destination. The final pages depict the protagonist walking away from the past, symbolized by a burning letter, stepping into an uncertain but hopeful future. The ambiguity of the ending resonates deeply, making it a talking point among fans who debate whether the protagonist truly found peace or merely an illusion of it. The supporting characters also get their moments, with subplots wrapping up in ways that feel organic. Some relationships mend, others fracture irreparably, and a few remain suspended in delicate tension. The author’s choice to avoid a traditional 'happily ever after' elevates the narrative, grounding it in realism. The last line—a simple, whispered 'good things'—echoes the title, leaving readers with a haunting sense of melancholy and quiet optimism. It’s the kind of ending that stays with you, prompting reflection long after the book is closed.