The past few days were spent like this: strolling around, reading and gazing the beginning of the spring. I finally finished reading The Gravedigger’s Daughter and I am rendered to the Joyce Carol Oates’ writing talent. This book is still living inside of me, and I am still hearing the echoes of the voices from the different characters. The first 200 pages were very hard for me to read (and I know why, everything that was written was so accurate, that I was feeling tremendously affected), but then I’ve started to enjoying it, more and more. I must say that Joyce Carol writes, above all, about the brutally of the human soul.