Almost Life
Cut along the dashed lines and pass the cards around the table.
Where did you do most of your reading of this one, and did you find yourself needing a blanket, a cup of something, or a break to breathe?
Was there a sentence early on that made you stop and reread it? Bring it to the couch and read it out loud to us.
The title holds the idea of a life that almost was. What is a gentle, no-regrets version of your own almost life, a path you nearly took and still think of fondly?
Hargrave writes bodies and tenderness so closely together. Where in this book did you feel genuinely cared for as a reader, like the author was being kind to you?
Which small domestic detail in this novel (a room, a meal, a habit, a hand being held) stayed with you longer than you expected, and why do you think it stuck?
This is a book about people loving each other imperfectly. Who in your own life came to mind while you were reading, and did you want to call them?
Hope and grief sit side by side here for 448 pages. Did the book leave you feeling comforted, raw, or somehow both, and what do you think it was trying to give you?
Without saying how things land, was there a moment where you felt the book quietly change what it was asking of you? What did you have to let go of to keep reading with an open heart?