I quit biting my nails about 6 years ago. My dentist told me I was ruining my teeth. It seems that Karina Halle wants me to have ugly teeth, because for 2 days and 268 pages, I did nothing but gnaw on my previously perfect nails.
I'd love to tell you that this was my only coping mechanism for the record-setting anxiety that Love, in Spanish caused, but it's not.
After mentally begging Mateo not to give up (hope, on Vera, on a relationship with Chloe Ann, you name it), I thought the connection might be stronger if I actually started voicing my pleas. That led to my 5-year old asking who Mateo was, and why I looked scared.
Without going into too much detail, I explained the gist of Love, in English in a way that 5-year old *might* understand. How sometimes, people love who they love, and it can cause all other things in their life to get very messy. But as long as those two people realize that what they have is worth fighting for, then in mommy's book, it all works out (though not always perfectly).
The kid looked very confused by this point, but I continued. Love, in Spanish takes place a year later, and I thought it was important that he understand that even though two people sometimes look like they absolutely belong together, there are things outside of their relationship that seem to almost purposefully try and tear them apart. But you can never EVER give up hope, because the loss of it can destroy you the moment you do. Then he asked if he could go back to watching his show about a platypus that was also a spy.
My reading tastes are all over the place, but there is nothing I love more than an author who can write real, flawed, insecure people, in an honest voice that conveys the brutal reality that sometimes is life. Love, in Spanish is not for the faint of heart who are looking for a Hallmark movie of the week in a book. It has you on edge. It has you hating reality. And it has you never giving up hope, even in the midst of utter despair. Ms. Halle - please don't ever write about rainbows.