It seems that people either hate it or love it, and I’m the latter (it helped that the book was set in two of my old stomping grounds: Lake Forest, IL, and Berkeley, CA). HWOSG is, well, genius. Purchased upon the solitary recommendation of a genius in his own right, I took forever to finish it, owing to the fact that it was the behind-the-passenger-seat time-sink for me when The Girl is sleeping in the car. Finally, months later, I finished the final addenda and declared it ‘done’. Besides Didion, it is the best view into the tumultuous world of grief that I’ve come across, and a revealing confession of self-pity and a harrowing search for meaning. Self-help guides and religious band-aids for grief? You can keep ‘em, thanks. Eggers writes from the middle of staggering grief, and the result is heartbreaking and comforting and dizzying.