Book 6 made me cry

Notes on weird dog behaviors: I reported a few weeks back that when I went in the back yard and sat down, Izzy glued herself to the top step and wouldn't come see me for death or life. 

I was wrong.  After three occasions of me taking a lawnchair out there, sitting on it and reading for an hour or so, she's off the step and sitting beside me.  I guess that top step got pretty boring.

Now for the news: book #6 of 10

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak


Wow.  I'm not a writer or even an English major, but I'd say he's broken all the rules of good storytelling--and because of that--created a masterpiece story.  His narrator (whom I love) continually foreshadows what is to come, so I was always reading with a vague sense of dread mixed in with my overpowering curiosity.  And his turn of a phrase is frequently so offbeat, so unusual, that I stopped short, went back and re-read--just to see what the heck he just said.  But on that second reading the image jumped off the page and dangled in the air in front of me...I knew exactly what he was saying and exactly what he was seeing.  Clear.  Telling.

It's almost like his purpose in writing was to tell this moral:
You make your own luck, be it good or bad.
(Then random chance wipes you out)