I have read multiple books by Andrew Smith but none that hunt me like this one. I still lay awake at night thinking of the horrors this book held. The pain it caused me to read, and I have to say do to that I can't help but give it praise. But I will not continue onto Passenger. I just can't.

It was a book that I thought had a lot of meaning. John Green wowed me for the thrid time and that hard to do for an author so I give him props there. The Story wasn't perfect, but the character were spectacular. The mistakes were small, and the way he handle mental illness was perfect. This book checked alot of boxes for me but the real issues is it was no "Looking for Alaska or Fault In Our Stars" what I mean it didn't live up to it, and that makes me sad.

I reread this book for my AP Lit class and as rereading I notice a few more quirks. But *SPOLIRS* when Gatsby dies it just doesn't feel right, and or justice for the character. My teacher who I had a big debate about this with told me that it doesn't matter, because maybe that's what Fitzgerald wanted. I don't really know how much I believed that or not.

For a beloved book that is "The Great Gatsby" the final acts fall apart in pieces crumbling like a stack of cards. Yet beautifully written to the tee.