This isn’t a review. It’s a love letter.
Dear I’ll Give You the Sun,
I want to exclaim into the wind every possible cliche. My love for you is the universe, ever expanding with no definite boundaries or end. You did give me the sun: my chest filled with warmth as love grew into a lump in my throat, and then trickled down my face as tears. I cannot remember the last time I felt this way.
Your characters are beautifully flawed. Your structure is sound and, although frustrating at times, is worth it, as the threads of story lines ultimately tie together in a luscious red bow. Jude and Noah should be comically bizarre, but they never are. They seem so human, ever changing, and hiding their hurt behind caricatures they have drawn for themselves. They are so broken, but they never break. Their hope, their pain, their love. I felt it all. I am not a visual artist, but I understood the way Noah paints in his head, and I understood the way Jude transforms objects into sculptures. I have never done these things, but I do have my own quirks that keep me sane. I felt like I was Noah and Jude.
Oh, I’ll Give You the Sun! Your love stories are never tiring. They feel fresh and new, and they warm the heart of a girl who has never loved. They give me hope, they give me happiness. They are my own loves. My own heartbreaks.
Simply put, your story is mine.
I cannot review this novel because I am bias to the extreme. I love this book more than I could possibly ever express; I cannot even name the reasons why I love it. It just spoke to me, heart to heart, and made me long for the story to never end. I love I love I love I Love.
Thank you, I’ll Give You the Sun. You sing the same song as my heart.
Thank you for making me feel again. Thank you for making me believe. Thank you for giving me characters who are more like friends. Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for speaking to me.