Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel’s story is about to be completely rewritten.
Instead of writing a proper review for this, I am going to try to organize my thoughts into a letter to Mr. John Green.
Dear Mr. Green,
I feel the need to tell you that you are an unacceptably realistic writer. I also have to confess that I never found TfioS to be particularly ground-breaking until the second-half, and ultimately, the end. But did this make the book any less meaningful or impactful to me? No. And let me tell you that it will leave its mark, or its scar, as Augustus would say. This book did not tread lightly on the universe like Hazel did.
Confession #2: I never cry. Not when I read a book or even when I watch a movie. But because The Fault in Our Stars took the time to notice things, and pay attention to them, it began to tread not-quite-so lightly in my heart. My eyes soon turned into an endless waterfall and ruined my sheets. From that chapter onward, I couldn’t really stop sniffling. I want you to know that that’s a huge achievement. I know I’m only one person, one reader among the millions who have read your book(s), but I hope you know that I’m thankful your book made me feel like this. Hazel and Augustus were two exceptional characters, and it’s only right that I shed more than the usual torrent of tears I don’t shed for sad books. This is also the reason why I stayed up at 3 AM to finish the book and type this up, and will wake up later with swollen eyes. Thank you so much!
Why are you unacceptably realistic? See, right after you made me cry, you made me laugh again. Then I felt guilty because I wasn’t supposed to laugh at a time like this. This is NOT supposed to happen! Oh, and then there’s the thing about Augustus and Hazel, which I won’t talk about here because I don’t want to ruin the scar – sorry, bloody hole – this book will leave on the next unsuspecting reader. Mr. Green, I’m not one who believes in happily-ever-afters. Thank you, and no thank you, for strengthening that belief.
How did you turn an innocent story about a girl’s journey with cancer into something extraordinary? Your book isn’t filled with “staccato bursts of humor and tragedy.” Staccato bursts is not the right word to use. How about stabs of or gunshots of to show how painful it will be? Just a suggestion.
P.S. This letter isn’t supposed to be deep or meaningful. I’m just trying to convey, in words, instead of my not-yet-constellations, my initial thoughts. This might not even make sense, for all I know.
Who is this book for?
Everyone! Well — people looking for a contemporary that will make them laugh, then make them cry again, even until the next day.