In my cynicism, I've come to expect that every highly lauded book and film will inevitably prove to be over-hyped and therefore bitterly disappointing. I've become jaded. At first, I was afraid my reservations would prove right. I was enjoying the story, but it lacked the wow factor I’d been led to expect. It didn’t make me cry in places I felt it ought to. But that may have been because I was snatching odd pages - hardly an immersive experience. I put aside a couple of hours to finish the book. I wept unashamedly, and while I was still crying, I found myself laughing out loud a couple of pages later. I guessed the ‘twist’ early on – totally saw it coming – but it didn’t spoil the story for me at all. A very powerful, moving experience. I may even read it again sometime, and anyone who knows me knows that is rare.