It actually took me more than a week to read Notes on Heartbreak, which is quite a long time for me. Annie Lord can write, wow, can she ever, and this book…well, it’s affected me more than I could have ever anticipated. To lay yourself open like this, it’s entirely impressive, and to do so with such introspection and intelligence as well. It reads like a novel, which was intuitively appealing to me, at times giving me Bridget Jones feels yet knowing all the while that, unlike Bridget Jones Diary, this was all true, not made up, and all the more powerful for it. It’s a memoir, I guess, which is usually a hard no from me, but then it doesn’t read like a memoir, and it doesn’t follow the usual formula for memoirs either, and in some ways, it also nudges into self-help without actually being a self-help book. Notes on Heartbreak is exactly one of these. I know a lot of reviewers who don’t like this, but for me, many of these books have turned out to be the absolute best of reads. Books that wouldn’t have even been on my radar. One of the best things about being a book reviewer is receiving books from publishers that I would not normally have chosen for myself.
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