Amber’s life is spinning out of control. All she wants is to turn up the volume on her iPod until all of the demands of family and friends fade away. So she sneaks off to the beach to spend a day by herself.
Then Amber meets Cade. Their attraction is instant, and Amber can tell he’s also looking for an escape. Together they decide to share a perfect day: no pasts, no fears, no regrets.
The more time that Amber spends with Cade, the more she’s drawn to him. And the more she’s troubled by his darkness. Because Cade’s not just living in the now—he’s living each moment like it’s his last.
Every now and then a book comes along that is so vivid, so beautifully written that you wish you could rewind the clock and savor it again for the first time. This is such a book.
My Twitter friends were raving about The Day Before, so I grabbed it at Borders while I was trolling their shelves last weekend. I didn't even open it; I just hauled it to the counter and paid for it. It wasn't until I cracked it open last night that I even saw the book is written in verse.
It's a collection of short poems that tell a story, and I wasn't sure I'd like it at first. There was so much white space on the page. It felt too light and airy, seeing the words floating on the paper, rather than being lined up in nice, neat rows. It didn't take me long to realize that nothing about the book was comfortable or familiar. It was shockingly different, new, and absolutely breathtakingly, hauntingly beautiful.
What once was strange and unfamiliar soon became a visual representation of freedom, which is ironic since the two characters in the book are anything but free. The power and simplicity of the poems reminded me why I love telling stories, and why I love to read. It made me feel, it made me ache, it made me cry, it made me smile. But above all, it made me want to write. Schroeder's work of art is a touching example of how words are like brush strokes in a painting: some are bold, some are light, but each one is important in portraying the full picture.
I can only hope to someday wield a brush as majestically as she has done with The Day Before. Thank you, Lisa!