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A review by mljohnson2698
Open Mic Night at Westminster Cemetery by Mary Amato
5.0
[enter our wonderful book reviewer who recently finished this gem of a book] Maren looks around the library, wondering what to read now. How could she read anything else after Open Mic Night at Westminster Cemetery?
MAREN: Mary Amato, how could you do this to me again? First there was Guitar Notes. I've read that 1,001 times (just like the Dalmations), and I thought it wasn't possible that I could read another book that had me laugh so hard and also want to die from the feels by the end. But then you DID IT AGAIN! And I'm upset!
A sudden chill fills the library, and fog appears from between the shelves, oozing between covers. A ghost of Mary Amato rises from the ground. Now reader, I know she's not dead. This ghost is just an imaginary Mary Amato, so don't you worry.
GHOST OF MARY AMATO: Why are you upset if you loved the book?
MAREN: Because I wasn't prepared to fall in love with legitimately one of the oddest books I've ever read. The format was exactly like this review, and I've never read a book like that before. But somehow that format only made everything better.
GHOST: That was my goal, you know. I don't try to write bad books or anything.
Maren sighs and stares into the distance for a minute, remembering how much she enjoyed reading the intermission in the book.
MAREN: But it wasn't just a unique format. It. Was. So. Funny. I was dying right from the start—pun completely intended since this book is about ghosts. Sam was endearing from the very first second. Lacy was interesting right from the start. I was laughing so hard when they met. And I continued laughing most of the book, and I can't believe you made me laugh at that.
GHOST: Why? I thought you liked funny books.
MAREN: I do. But this book shouldn't be funny. It's about a bunch of dead people, some of whom died tragically. I should not be laughing about them chatting in their graves.
The ghost of Mary Amato laughs. The fog flickers when she laughs because it's part of her imaginary ghost form, dear readers.
GHOST: Mwhahaha, that was my goal.
MAREN: But then it got worse. All of a sudden, I was emotionally attached to these characters and invested in discovering how Lacy died. And that's when we hit the last part of the book. I—
Maren pauses to feel all the feelings again. There were so many feelings in this book; she's now not sure how to describe them adequately to this imaginary ghost.
MAREN: Can't even handle what you did to me with the ending of the book. It was so emotional and beautiful. There aren't even words to describe how well you described grief. No one could read that ending and not be moved. Somehow, you had me laughing right from the start until you had me nearly crying over a cinnamon cake. It's Guitar Notes all over again. HOW DO YOU DO THAT?
GHOST: *describes exactly how she writes such perfect books that explore deep and relevant facets of humanity while also being hilarious and unique in format*
But unfortunately, nobody could hear the imaginary ghost of Mary Amato because the library cleaning crew chose that exact moment to come in and vacuum.
The end.
FADE TO BLACK.
MAREN: Mary Amato, how could you do this to me again? First there was Guitar Notes. I've read that 1,001 times (just like the Dalmations), and I thought it wasn't possible that I could read another book that had me laugh so hard and also want to die from the feels by the end. But then you DID IT AGAIN! And I'm upset!
A sudden chill fills the library, and fog appears from between the shelves, oozing between covers. A ghost of Mary Amato rises from the ground. Now reader, I know she's not dead. This ghost is just an imaginary Mary Amato, so don't you worry.
GHOST OF MARY AMATO: Why are you upset if you loved the book?
MAREN: Because I wasn't prepared to fall in love with legitimately one of the oddest books I've ever read. The format was exactly like this review, and I've never read a book like that before. But somehow that format only made everything better.
GHOST: That was my goal, you know. I don't try to write bad books or anything.
Maren sighs and stares into the distance for a minute, remembering how much she enjoyed reading the intermission in the book.
MAREN: But it wasn't just a unique format. It. Was. So. Funny. I was dying right from the start—pun completely intended since this book is about ghosts. Sam was endearing from the very first second. Lacy was interesting right from the start. I was laughing so hard when they met. And I continued laughing most of the book, and I can't believe you made me laugh at that.
GHOST: Why? I thought you liked funny books.
MAREN: I do. But this book shouldn't be funny. It's about a bunch of dead people, some of whom died tragically. I should not be laughing about them chatting in their graves.
The ghost of Mary Amato laughs. The fog flickers when she laughs because it's part of her imaginary ghost form, dear readers.
GHOST: Mwhahaha, that was my goal.
MAREN: But then it got worse. All of a sudden, I was emotionally attached to these characters and invested in discovering how Lacy died. And that's when we hit the last part of the book. I—
Maren pauses to feel all the feelings again. There were so many feelings in this book; she's now not sure how to describe them adequately to this imaginary ghost.
MAREN: Can't even handle what you did to me with the ending of the book. It was so emotional and beautiful. There aren't even words to describe how well you described grief. No one could read that ending and not be moved. Somehow, you had me laughing right from the start until you had me nearly crying over a cinnamon cake. It's Guitar Notes all over again. HOW DO YOU DO THAT?
GHOST: *describes exactly how she writes such perfect books that explore deep and relevant facets of humanity while also being hilarious and unique in format*
But unfortunately, nobody could hear the imaginary ghost of Mary Amato because the library cleaning crew chose that exact moment to come in and vacuum.
The end.
FADE TO BLACK.