Fiction by Lionel Shriver. (Who is a woman, by the way.)
This book was good in a bad way. Or bad in a good way.
By which I mean, this author did such a good job of portraying this awful, awful boy that I was seriously disturbed. As in, I had to stop reading.
That's really bad. I don't ever stop reading a book (unless it's boring.)
It's about a disturbing subject: The mother of a school-shooting perpetrator gives her side of the story. But I knew this going in.
And I've read a Jodi Picoult book on the same subject that was difficult but fair-minded and not horrific. It's called Nineteen Minutes and I highly recommend it.
But I've already sung the prasies of Jodi Picoult on this blog earlier. (Read it here if you're interested.) Love Love LOVE her!!!
However, We Need to Talk About Kevin was just bleak. This boy was irretrievably evil from birth.
It almost makes you feel like shooting people too. Or maybe just yourself.
Which is of course a testament to the talent of the author, the abilty to evoke such emotion. Good job, Lionel! You go girl... I guess.....
So if you want to read a book that kills all hope, this is the one.
Honestly, though.... I'll pass on finishing it.