![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() I’ve read my fair share of books about depression, whether they were idiotic romanticizing of it or heartbreaking journeys, but there’s something so important that nobody ever tells you. The words are there, they’re cutting through me, such ugly, ugly things. I’ve read so many beautiful and heartbreaking reviews of Glitterland that I started writing something along the lines of, no matter how hard I’ve been trying to find the words, they escape me. The kind of ugly that would make hate yourself if you weren’t that goddamn pissed. Please don’t bother if you can’t stand those. WARNING : This is a very personal review. Can a man who doesn’t trust himself ever trust in happiness? And how can a man who doesn’t believe in happiness ever fight for his own? By his own admission, Darian isn’t the crispest lettuce in the fridge, but he cooks a mean cottage pie and makes Ash laugh, reminding him of what it’s like to step beyond the boundaries of anxiety.īut Ash has been living in his own shadow for so long that he can’t see past the glitter to the light. Then a chance encounter at a stag party throws him into the arms of Essex boy Darian Taylor, an aspiring model who lives in a world of hair gel, fake tans, and fashion shows. He lives his life between the cycles of his illness, haunted by the ghosts of other people’s expectations. ![]() Once the golden boy of the English literary scene, now a clinically depressed writer of pulp crime fiction, Ash Winters has given up on love, hope, happiness, and-most of all-himself. ![]()
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