I was squeezing my index finger as if I were the one with bright red blood leaking out of a cut. Lolly Winston does have a way of describing a simple accidental razor cut that makes your skin crawl, though. I’ll also add that this book touches on topics of teen cutting and self harm, however in a respectful and loving tone. Phrases that I’ve never heard before but are used with an uncanny skill of combining two vastly distinct things and creating the perfect image in your mind’s eye. She uses phrases like the house creaks and sighs or acne covered gourd.

Obviously, Lolly Winston is a fantastic writer. The amount of bare truth and emotion in these pages make me wonder if Lolly Winston went through a similar loss. It’s made me see things a different way, perhaps even feel things differently now. Even when she does the craziest things, stupid or dangerous, you don’t make excuses for her, it’s not sympathy you feel toward her grief, you just understand. Sophie becomes a friend and a big sister. She doesn’t know what that looks like, and neither do you, but it’s a united longing as you two push on to reach this goal. How can I be a widow? Widows wear horn-rimmed glasses and cardigan sweaters that smell like mothballs and have crepe-paper skin and names like Gladys or Midge and meet with their other widow friends once a week to play pinochle.Īs a reader, you want Sophie to beat grief. Sophie’s funny, and self medicates by watching Cops, and loves food.

Reading this book, you care about Sophie. We feel sorry for them, want to console them, but mostly we want to leave the dreary, uncomfortable room to a place where we can breathe and start thinking about what toppings to get on our pizza at lunch. Sometimes grief is something a person becomes, a griever and nothing more. Lolly Winston expertly interweaved grief with Sophie. You don’t want to bring down the house or have a blubbery melt-down in public. She loses her husband to cancer, and we follow her as she goes through the different stages of grief. Her loneliness, and dreams, and thoughts, and unquenchable appetite for Oreos and praline and cream ice cream. Mostly, I read this book just to see if Ms. I was really excited to read this book because I’m a writer, and it’s intriguing to find a book written about grief to be, “ Filled with laugh-out-loud humor, struggles, triumphs, and plenty of midnight trips to the fridge…” Your heart says but it’s so easy and your brain says you’re just dumb. It’s like when you forget how to pronounce “of”. The name sounds so simple, and I have YET to say it correctly. “Good Grief” by Lotty Lolly Weston, Wilson Winston.

Good Grief by Lolly Winston