Now where is MY little red book?!? I want one! This story made me want to fly all the way to New York, find the Strand and find that book! Then I could have my very own Dash. I LOVED loved this book. Rachel and David did an amazing job writing together and created an amazing story of two different individuals and their adventures. What's not to like? The characters are top notch, even the secondary characters ( I loved Lily's aunt and I adored Boomer), it switches POV's, the plot is well . . . perfect, and the whole story flowed easily. Oh and IT WAS SUPER FUNNY!
Lets talk characters. Lily, dear Lily, so so relatible, lovable and sassy. Her holiday spirit is not fully apreciated which made me sad. I really liked her as a main character. There was only one time that I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her and say "LILY, NO!! THINK" but that's only once.
Then there was Dash. He is quite a smart 'lad. I was tempted to grab the dictionary to look up a few words he uses. I'm like 'cool...wait what does that mean?!' but it was good, I liked that about the book.
So, to wrap up my review lets just say I LOVED it, ok? The ending was great, both characters were happy even after 'the incident' (which was hilarious by the way). Just had to add that in there . . . if you want a laugh pick this book up. Great work Rachel and David! I highly recommend this book to everyone!
I could have been hanging out with my friends, but most of them were hanging out with their families or their Wiis. (Wiis? Wiii? What is the plural?) I preferred to hang out with the dead, dying, or desperate books--used we call them, in a way that we'd never call a person, unless we meant it cruelly. ("Look at Clarissa . . . she's such a used girl.")
I was horribly bookish, to the point of coming right out and saying it, which I knew was not socially acceptable. I particularly loved the adjective bookish, which I found other people used about as often as ramrod or chum or teetotaler.
On this particular day, I decided to check out a few of my favorite authors, to see if any irregular editions had emerged from a newly deceased person's library sale. I was perusing a particular favorite (he shall remain nameless, because I might turn against him someday) when I saw a peek of red. It was a red Moleskine--made of neither mole nor skin, but nonetheless the preferred journal of my associates who felt the need to journal in non-electronic form. You can tell a lot about a person from the page she or she chooses to journal on--I was strictly a college-ruled man myself, having no talent for illustration and a microscopic scrawl that made wide-ruled seem roomy. The blank pages were usually the most popular--I only had one friend, Thibaud, who went for the grid. Or at least he did until the guidance counselors confiscated his journals to prove that he had been plotting to kill our history teacher. (This is a true story.)
There wasn't any writing on the spine of this particular journal--I had to take it off the shelf to see the front, where there was a piece of masking tape with the words DO YOU DARE? written in black Sharpie. When I opened the covers, I found a note on the first page.