Madeline Miller, ya did it again. I read The Song Of Achilles in high school, it awoke something in me, and I'd put off reading Circe for some subconscious gay reason, I think. Now it's 3am, and I'm crying my eyes out over this book. 

I love Miller's prose, I love how raw and emotional her mythological retellings are, and how much they humanise these legendary figures. I can't pinpoint what exactly makes Miller's narrative voice so consistently brilliant, it just resonates with me.