I just finished Gabriel Garcia Marquez One Hundred Years of Solitude. I absolutely love it, it’s my kind of book, a fever dream in which decades pass like minutes with a story that invokes a deeply hidden sense of wonder. And then I got to the end and I just feel completely empty from a literary journey that felt so real.
I was hoping ya’ll could suggest me a book to fill the void left behind.
Thanks
Perhaps ‘Orlando’ by Virginia Woolf, or her 'To the Lighthouse ’
Thanks, love your username btw