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Thank you for giving us "Tell the Wolves I'm Home", Carol Rifka Brunt. I've tried to write a "real" review but every time I try I feel that I'm not doing you or 'Wolves' justice.
As I read 'Wolves' and updated my status on goodreads, I wrote down my thoughts and feelings. Raw. I had to set 'Wolves' down every now and then because of life's obligations; not because I wanted to. I've recommended 'Wolves' to just about everyone I know and I will continue doing this in every way and form I can.
You have written a book for the ages. It is timeless.
My updates on goodreads:
OCTOBER 23rd, 2:30pm
I am utterly spent. I will return to review "Tell the Wolves I'm Home", but I don't know how I'll ever be able to do it and Carol Rifka Brunt justice. I'm sharing some of the thoughts I had and feelings I experienced that are still very palpable inside me below. Those comments are not meant to be my review. I feel so strongly about this book that I don't want to leave this page naked until I can come up with anything even close to how I feel about "Wolves." There aren't enough stars to adequately rate this book. As I can only give it five I'm giving it five and infinitely more inside me.
OCTOBER 21RST: PAGE 250.
The scope and depth of emotions I'm feeling and that I'm learning, yes learning, about why I feel as I do has swallowed me whole. Tears of sadness, tears of self-recognition, tears for people I know but who I feel I understand more as a result of reading "Wolves." This book cuts across all genres as far as I'm concerned, and I don't think that a single genre exists in which this book could fit.
OCTOBER 18TH:
I started "Wolves this morning at 5:30 so I'd have about an hour and a half to myself. I would literally read a few sentences and feel that I had to stop. Then I re-read and silently mouthed every word to myself, savoring every single word and wanting them to linger with me for as long as possible. This seems to have happened at least one time on every page.
Then I felt so full and freed by what I'd read that I wanted to get on goodreads and facebook and "publish" the word treasures I'd found and share them with the world. No preambles about the book or the book's name. I found myself wanting to leave anonymous sentences or words in quotations giving people hints of what I don't even know how to describe, but that I have read.
I'm only on page sixty and I'm already dreading when "Wolves" will end. I may have to turn right back around and read it again. I know that there is no way that I'm taking in all that there is in this work. I've been highlighting specific one or two words, sentences, and whole passages so I can come back to them later and get high all over again.
I am a wild woman book-aholic. I've read some amazing books over the years and in the past year specifically, that I never thought any other could better, but "Wolves" at this point is my favorite love of all. Ahh...
Reading "Wolves" is a full and all senses experience for me. It is so wonderful that I feel like I could cry. I know that sounds corny but there is something about this book that has swallowed me whole like none other. I felt like I was in my own little world when reading it this morning. After two pages or even one, I turned the ringtone to my phone down to virtually zero. I didn't want the world to intrude on my private time with my "Wolves." The only reason I kept my phone by my side was just in case a number flashed on that might have involved my daughter Lia. I'm hoping I'll be able to get a bit of reading in tonight. If not, it's 5:30am again for this Elizabeth tomorrow. I'm entranced I tell you, entranced!
OCTOBER 18TH, 2:55pm
I'm in love.
OCTOBER 23rd, 8pm:
Sharing with another reader of "Wolves."
I had to stop at certain points because every part of me was being as you said, "grabbed." I'm tearing up right now thinking about the end and the middle and the beginning. The last 30 to 40 pages had every part of me so alive yet swallowed up that I could barely read, but I couldn't stop myself from reading. At certain points I was so scared and utterly bereft about what I knew was inevitable that I literally read a bit at a time through my fingers with my hand in front of my eyes. They were so real. They weren't characters in a book. They had come to life. I was with them. I felt like I could hear and smell and taste everything they were (especially two of them). I'm crying like a baby while writing to you. Not naming anyone because I don't want to come close to tipping any potential reader off to the ride I took through all that we are and feel and dread and hope for as sentient beings. I realized that I was literally holding my breath during the last pages. Still crying. My "heart, soul, mind, everything" are still being grabbed" as you shared, and I can feel my body throbbing, especially my arms and hands. Swollen. I am still so full of everything and everyone in "Wolves." I hope that Brunt is mixing up a magical brew that will be her next novel. I want it now! I don't know how to really move on to reading a new book.
- Elizabeth Danzig


Deborah, I'm going to try to get over for a little northeast tour around the time the paperback comes out. So, maybe first half of September. A long way away, but I live in the UK, so will have to do a fair amount of planning to make the most of it. Very open to suggestions for good bookshops to approach for readings.
Thanks again. Tell the Wolves has somehow made it to the Goodreads Choice finals. Yay!

I made a bold announcement on my ordinary Facebook page that I found this book to be on par with TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. Harper Lee's story took place before my time, but this story did not. In 1986, I was a senior in high school. And I loved June like I loved Scout, only I lived in June's era. There were so many things to which I was oblivious in my self centered, 80's teen world. I'm saddened and shocked by just how ugly the world was about AIDS. I thought I knew, but I didn't really know at all.


Sherri Levek