God-Shaped Hole: book review.

If your intentions are pure,
I’m seeking a friend
for the end
of the world.

Does it count as a book review if I’ve read it literally more than a dozen times? Or at this point am I just shouting into the void about how everyone needs to read God-Shaped Hole by Tiffanie DeBartolo.

If you’re a hopeless romantic like me, you need it. If you’re a teenager battling the sea of hormones, you need it. If you felt that ache in your chest when you read Catcher in the Rye in high school, you need it. If you’re a guy who doesn’t understand women—honestly this may not get you any closer, but I don’t think it could hurt. Read it.

I don’t know a better way to express it than this: if I were a dark witch following in Voldemort’s footsteps, this book would be my first horcrux.

God-shaped Hole by Tiffanie DeBartolo is by far my favorite book of all time. Have you ever read something—a book, a song lyric, a poem, an article—that made you stop and think, holy crap this is me. Something that resonated so deeply that there’s a small part of you a little convinced it was written with you in mind? Silly, I know. Unrealistic? Absolutely. But there’s still that twinkle buried that says, if it was written for me, they nailed it.

I remember feeling it even then—the sensation that your heart is too big for your body—that it might burst out of your chest and splatter all over the wall. I suppose it’s called loneliness.

God-shaped Hole is a novel about a woman (Trixie) in Los Angeles whose heart is not in it at all. She meets a man (Jacob) and is able to identify the same emptiness and longing in him that she finds in herself. Their plan is to move east and throw themselves into southern roots and sticky summers together, but no love story is complete without trouble and heartache.

I feel like we grew in the same womb or something. Like we’ve been connected in the beginning by blood and veins. Siamese soul lovers, if there could ever be such a thing.

The overall mechanics of the book are top notch—writing, dialog, language. But the part that really matters is content. Gritty, raw, heart-wrenching content. The kind you feel down to the marrow in your bones. It’s what keeps you coming back. The feelings that resonate so deep—it’s like the breath of relief when you finally don’t have to keep a secret you’ve been holding onto, because it’s okay not to. DeBartolo is the friend that carries that burden with you. And God-Shaped Hole is the kind of story that ties together so intricately and beautifully, that by the time you’re finished you need a break because you’re too emotionally invested in the characters to rebound with someone else.

Have you ever read God-Shaped Hole? What did you think? Is there any book you’ve read that makes you feel the way this does for me? Let me know!




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