Novel & Cerita Say Nothing Book Review

Say no more. Janice flipped through the book rapidly; each page of the space adventure had been replaced with a copy of the previous. Snake. Mask. Blade. Say no more. She slammed the book shut; the noise echoing as loud as a gunshot in the silent prison. “Why don't you want me to tell my story?” she asked the air. “Why?” Then, from the book, a voice spoke. It was somehow both the voice of Emily Diamond and not the voice of Emily Diamond at all. Almost as if a talented actress was doing a decent (but far from perfect) impression.

It didn’t say anything about the animals or people of that land. Erica got tired and bored and closed the book, “This is so damn boring,” she sighed and closed the book and pushed it away. “May be you can put yourself back,” she talked to the book and then looked around, she felt ashamed, what if someone saw her talking to a book. Talking to a book? Damn it, Erica quickly got up and rushed towards her bag, she pulled out her diary from it and sighed. She was so caught p in all the drama that she forgot about it.

The line went dead, and the room felt suddenly too small, too quiet. Maleek stared at me. “What did they say?” I lowered the phone slowly, hands shaking. “They just made it personal,” I said. * * * * * Hello lovelies, Thanks for reading and adding this book to your library. Don't forget to join my Faceb𝕠𝕠k group, Maramartha's Book Babes, to ask questions, interact with fellow readers, and chat with me, Adrian, Sophia, and other characters.

"Is it good?" "It's devastating." She set it back down. "It's about two people who love each other in a place and time that won't let them. Everyone can see it, and no one will say it out loud. The whole book is just the weight of the thing that can't be spoken." Silence. "Emma." "I'm not making a point," she said. "I'm just telling you about the book." He didn't argue. But she felt him exhale beside her, felt the warmth of it in the cool night air.

I whisper. This time, the tears don’t feel like weakness. They feel like healing. Like something finally beginning. ************************ Unspoken Desires - Book 3…. Coming Soon

Impulsively, I booked the coin, desperate to see her face when she showed up. Less than an hour later, my doorbell rang. I opened the door with a stern face to find Eleanor standing there. "How could you stoop so low and continue doing this?" I demanded angrily. Eleanor met my gaze, her face emotionless but her eyes flashing with disdain. "Don't look at me like that, Shawn. What right do you have? You're just like all men—hypocrites! You told me to stop, but here you are, booking me again!"

“Your book… it made it feel possible. Not easy. But possible. Like you don’t have to have all the power. You just have to be more annoying.” I laughed. “That’s the unofficial slogan.” On the drive home, exhilarated and exhausted, we dissected the night in the car. “Did you see the guy taking notes during your ‘asymmetrical narrative engagement’ bit?” Chloe asked Arthur from the backseat. “He looked like he was trying to diagram your soul.” “He was a sociology PhD candidate. He asked for my sources,” Arthur said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “I sold three copies of the book,” I said, still amazed. “To actual strangers.”

Don't forget to comment on what you think of the book, and if you love it hit the star and vote for the book. @CrystalSteadman 2023

--- ### The Protest of Stillness "Rowan, Leo, listen to me!" I shouted, grabbing both of them. Rowan's arm felt like cold plastic. Leo was staring at the sky with a vacant smile. "Don't react! Don't feel anything! If we stop being 'Interesting,' the Reader will close the book!" "I don't... understand," Rowan said, his voice a flat, synthesized drone. "What is... 'interesting'?" "The love!" I said, tears streaming down my face. "The love we had! The pain! We have to kill it! We have to become nothing so they’ll leave us alone!"

The food came. They talked. Not about the board review. Not about the foundation launch or the Ashford file or the returners meeting or any of the things that constituted the operational texture of their lives. About other things. She told him about a book she had been reading — the first book she had read for no reason other than she wanted to, in longer than she could accurately remember. A novel. Something funny and specific and with no particular relevance to anything happening in her actual life, which was precisely why she had chosen it.