Series: If I Stay #1
Publishing date: January 1st, 2009
Summary: In a single moment, everything changes. Seventeen-year-old Mia has no memory of the accident; she can only recall riding along the snow-wet Oregon road with her family. Then, in a blink, she finds herself watching as her own damaged body is taken from the wreck...
A sophisticated, layered, and heartachingly beautiful story about the power of family and friends, the choices we all make—and the ultimate choice Mia commands.
Rating: 5 stars
I have no idea how to do this story justice. It seems like I could go on and on about it for hours without even getting close to how amazing it is.
This book is bittersweet. Hot and cold, funny and depressing, heart-warming and sob-inducing. It's the perfect roller-coaster, a prime example of how powerful writing can be. I adored everything about it. The plot, shocking and realistic (despite my skepticism at first), the characters, touching and real, the writing, both light and deep... I don't know how Forman managed to put all of that in one book? I'm completely baffled at the enormous quantity of talent she put in those 196 pages. How? I don't get it. Thankfully, I'm not a writer so I don't have to. I'll just keep gushing.
This book has one of the best set of characters I've ever read about in a YA book. You can't not love Mia, you can't not adore Adam, you can't not worship Mia's family. It's impossible. I just... I'm mostly incoherent right now for reasons I can't say because I don't want to spoil readers, so let me just say that this book is a must-read. This is the kind of book you want to have read at least once in your life, because it carries the kind of message you hope to understand but never have to face. Because I can't put my thoughts together even a week after reading it. Because it's that good.
I'm mostly useless in this state, so I'm just going to leave these few quotes and hope you'll magically find your way to this book soon.
Anyhow, she didn't care that people called her a bitch. "It's just another word for feminist," she told me with pride.
"Holy Crud. Is that Brooke Vega?" I hear someone ask in a totally fakey dramatic voice from outside the ICU's automatic doors. I've never heard any of Adam's friends talk so PG-13 before. It's their sanitized hospital version of "holy fucking shit."
He searches around, like he's dropped something and then finds what he's looking for: my hand.