Juliette hasn’t touched anyone in exactly 264 days.
The last time she did, it was an accident, but The Reestablishment locked her up for murder. No one knows why Juliette’s touch is fatal. As long as she doesn’t hurt anyone else, no one really cares. The world is too busy crumbling to pieces to pay attention to a 17-year-old girl. Diseases are destroying the population, food is hard to find, birds don’t fly anymore, and the clouds are the wrong color.
The Reestablishment said their way was the only way to fix things, so they threw Juliette in a cell. Now so many people are dead that the survivors are whispering war – and The Reestablishment has changed its mind. Maybe Juliette is more than a tortured soul stuffed into a poisonous body. Maybe she’s exactly what they need right now.
Juliette has to make a choice: Be a weapon. Or be a warrior.
I’m the most sporadic blogger ever right now, I’m sorry about that. I really need to get to reviewing all these books I’ve been reading these past few months though, so here’s to trying.
I apologize in advance to everyone who loves this book and/or this series. Nothing against you, just a lot against this book.
I read Shatter Me in June, so it’s quite a long time ago, but even though I don’t remember every detail of the plot (it wasn’t memorable to begin with) I still remember how reading it made me feel.
As you can probably tell by the rating, I couldn’t stand this book. I hated it in that trainwreck kind of way, you just can’t look away because it’s that terrible. It’s so terrible that it made reading it hilarious. This might be one of the funniest books I’ve ever read. The writing style cracked me up several times, I still can’t believe what I read was real.
The metaphors. Oh god the metaphors. The writing style in general. So awful. You just can’t make this shit up. Some find it poetic, I found it pretentious, over the top, and fake deep. Most of the time they do not even MAKE SENSE!!! For a metaphor/simile to be good it HAS TO MAKE SENSE.
Before I start listing the terrible/hilarious lines, I also have to add that is the plot is really bland. Like I said, nothing really stands out a few months after reading it. Plus, there was a lot that was just really Convenient for plot purposes. Juliette can’t touch anyone because her touch kills. Okay, cool, neat. But wow, what’s this, she can touch this one hot Love Interest! Convenient. And wait… she can also touch this Other Hot Dude, who happens to be The Villain! He also happens to be apart of what is now a Love Triangle. Very convenient. Much interesting. Wow.
Nah, man. Nah.
I’m sure there is a reason for it (hopefully), but I just rolled my eyes when it happened.
The likelihood of there being 2 people in this world who are immune to my touch doesn’t seem possible.
Just because you’re aware of the fact that it is awfully convenient doesn’t make it less annoying. And just so we will KNOW FOR A FACT that she’s aware it’s convenient, we get this halfway through the book:
“She can’t touch anyone except for you.”
“That seems awfully convenient.”
Now to the fun part of this review. If you read these lines and passages I’m posting and find that you really enjoy them, you’ll love this book. Go read it, this shit is on every page. But if you read them and shudder and think to yourself “WHYYY WOULD ANYONE WRITE THIS IN ALL SERIOUSNESS”, then don’t come within ten feet of it, you will want to tear your hair out. The writing style is definitely a love it or hate it thing, I feel.
Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one too.
WHAT????? CLOUDS? HEARTBEAT? IT’S CHAPTER TWO AND I’M ALREADY LOST
The paragraph continues. Hold on to your hats.
I always wonder about raindrops.
I wonder about how they’re always falling down, tripping over their own feet, breaking their legs and forgetting their parachutes as they tumble right out of the sky toward and uncertain end. It’s like someone is emptying their pockets over the earth and doesn’t seem to care where the contents fall, doesn’t seem to care that the raindrops burst when they hit the ground, that they shatter when they fall to the floor, that people curse the days the drops dare to tap on their doors.
I am a raindrop.
My eyes are 2 professional pickpockets, stealing everything to store away in my mind.
Get used to the “my/his [blank] are [ridiculous comparison]” because this book lives and breathes similes.
his lips his lipsare 2 pieces of frustration forged together.”
Now here is one quote I actually liked, because I identify a lot:
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association.
But the joy is short-lived, because the next paragraph consists of this:
They want to delete every point of punctuation in my life from this earth.
No. On my kindle, my comment on that quote was “is that why you don’t do commas?”
I crumble to the floor, folding into myself like a flimsy crepe.
This is why this is the funniest book I’ve read. This is supposed to be a dramatic scene. A FLIMSY CREPE. WHY. BYE.
My humanity is lying in a million pieces on this carpeted floor.
You know, if this kind of thing wasn’t on EVERY SINGLE PAGE I wouldn’t mind something like this. But holy hell, it’s way too much.
I’d like to cry into his eyes.
Why. Who thinks things like this. That doesn’t sound comfortable. What.
I realize I’m paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in my lungs.
My body is a carnivorous flower, a poisonous houseplant, a loaded gun with a million triggers and he’s more than ready to fire.
My throat is a reptile, covered in scales.
I have nothing left to say.
I swallow my stomach.
My lips are too pink. My teeth are unusually straight.
What a tragedy. Everyone would hate to have pink lips and straight teeth.
My eyes are as big as my face.
I guess that’s one way to convey surprise.
Realization is a pendulum the size of the moon.
I’m one piece of astonishment forged into being.
Are we done yet.
He’s a hot bath, a short breath, 5 days of summer pressed into 5 fingers writing stories on my body.
My eyelashes trip into my eyebrows; my jaw drops into my lap.
He leans back against the couch. Runs a free hand over his face. Seasons change. Stars explode. Someone is walking on the moon.
HOW DOES WALKING ON THE MOON RELATE FHRBOFUYGREUYG
There are 400 cotton balls caught in my windpipe.
At this point I’m just waiting for someone to pop out of the page yelling APRIL FOOLS.
James and Adam glance back at me and I melt into pink Play-Doh.
Just plain ol’ melting isn’t enough anymore. Gotta be Play-Doh. Gotta be pink.
My stomach is a flimsy crepe, my heart is a raging woodpecker, my blood is a river of anxiety.
THE FLIMSY CREPE IS BACK. This is such a strange thing to use twice in one book.
His lips are spelling secrets and my ears are spilling ink, staining my skin with his stories.
Okay, so the lips spelling secrets I can deal with. BUT WHY ARE YOUR EARS SPILLING ANYTHING AT ALL. THIS IS TRYING TOO HARD TO SOUND GOOD WHEN IT ACTUALLY MAKES NO SENSE
I’m an old creaky staircase when I wake up.
This is another one that makes sense. But again, it’s just way too much for me to handle. Calm down, we don’t need this on every page.
My mouth is sitting on my kneecaps.
dumb creative ways to convey surprise here. I’m tired.
My jaw is dangling from my shoelace.
??????????????? LITERALLY ????????????
My eyes are as wide as my face.
This one again.
His eyebrows are touching the ceiling.
We’re almost done.
You’ve filled my days with shooting stars, and one day I will pluck the moon from the sky and fit it in your mailbox.
The perfect way to end this is with this Fake Deep quote FROM THE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. I don’t know if it’s reassuring or not that she actually writes like this outside the narrative of the book?
AND THIS ISN’T EVEN HALF OF IT THOUGH.
So, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know because I’m dying to know. I want to hear from likeminded people as well as those of you who love this writing style. I know you exist out there somewhere. I’m glad you like it, I just couldn’t take it after the first two pages.
This book shattered me. My eyebrows have tripped into my hair, my jaw is on the moon, and my entire body is a flimsy crepe ready to fling itself into the sun.