On the train this morning, and in the sun at lunch time I read a darling, adorable, heartfelt, funny, terrifying, ever-so-sad, wonderful book.
My Diary by Mio Matsumoto
It is set out landscape and hand written, drawings which remind me of David Shrigley are sweet and integral to the storytelling. There is a hint of english-as-a-second-language in her phrasing which ... only adds to the air of intimacy.
I am trying my best to get this out without using the word WHIMSY. Because this book is about Cancer. Tongue cancer and heartbreak in a girl of 25. So. Not the cheeriest subject in the world (but true true true. It is her Diary after all) but it is told in such a forthright and personal manner, from denial to fear to demanding of her doctor that she not wait another week for treatment, that more than being sad, you just want Mio to survive and fall in love and kiss, a LOT. Because she seems sweet, she seems like someone you would like to be friends with.
Oo! AND! She has a Blog! Mio's Page. It is all all (pretty much) all in Japanese.
(and p.s. She beats cancer.)