I’m entering that sweet spot in the novel I’m currently reading (At the Water’s Edge by Sara Gruen) where I’m so terribly and wonderfully close to the end that I’m about to find out what happens, BUT it’s about to be over. I can’t stand it.
This is always how I know without a doubt that I’ve fallen in love with a book. I want to rush to end to see to see how it all plays out, but I want to stop and read slowly–lingering with the characters I’ve grown to know–so that I will still have this story for one more chapter, one more page, one more moment.
Ah, the sweet torture.