A year or two ago, when I asked Mrs. McIntyre at the Dublin Public Library if they had Same Kind of Different As Me on the shelf, she looked at me as if I were crazy. She must have never heard of it, and I was sheepish. I'd seen it reviewed somewhere and thought it sounded like the kind of mainstream book the library might boast: the story of a yuppie learning life lessons from a homeless man. I mean, the library boasts less mainstream books than that. But I was out of luck on that front.
I put the book on my Amazon wish list, which is simply my reminder that "someday I'd like to read that book." (I'm the only one who looks at my Amazon wish list.) But the subject matter wasn't high priority, and it wasn't a known author, and I don't like to spend money on books unless I'm going to learn something new from them or know already that what they contain is worthwhile.
When my parents gave me credit to buy an eBook from the Sony store for Christmas, I decided to gamble on the book. I was still hesitant, skeptical about its worth. But the discount on the eBook version was encouraging.
I remained skeptical when I downloaded the book. I had thought it was a true account, but at a closer glance, it looked like fiction. Oh well, I though, it's probably still interesting.
As I started to read, skepticism melted away. It is a true story, but it's told from the perspective of two very different men who alternate narration. As they narrate, the characters come to life and lead you down their paths. The ending was unexpected, but not unexpected in a jarring way so much as in a "Now, who was that story about?" way.
It is a laughing-crying book, so don't choose it for fluff reading. It explores real-life pain, the kind of pain that people close to me have had to walk through . . . but I don't want to disclaimer it so much that I spoil the path for you. It had more impact on me because I didn't know exactly what it was about--just enjoyed the window into other people's lives. People who are, indeed, the same kind of different as me.
I put the book on my Amazon wish list, which is simply my reminder that "someday I'd like to read that book." (I'm the only one who looks at my Amazon wish list.) But the subject matter wasn't high priority, and it wasn't a known author, and I don't like to spend money on books unless I'm going to learn something new from them or know already that what they contain is worthwhile.
When my parents gave me credit to buy an eBook from the Sony store for Christmas, I decided to gamble on the book. I was still hesitant, skeptical about its worth. But the discount on the eBook version was encouraging.
I remained skeptical when I downloaded the book. I had thought it was a true account, but at a closer glance, it looked like fiction. Oh well, I though, it's probably still interesting.
As I started to read, skepticism melted away. It is a true story, but it's told from the perspective of two very different men who alternate narration. As they narrate, the characters come to life and lead you down their paths. The ending was unexpected, but not unexpected in a jarring way so much as in a "Now, who was that story about?" way.
It is a laughing-crying book, so don't choose it for fluff reading. It explores real-life pain, the kind of pain that people close to me have had to walk through . . . but I don't want to disclaimer it so much that I spoil the path for you. It had more impact on me because I didn't know exactly what it was about--just enjoyed the window into other people's lives. People who are, indeed, the same kind of different as me.
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