A review by sarahrahrah
Love from A to Z by S.K. Ali

challenging emotional hopeful informative reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

I was hooked on this story from the beginning, and loved how it was told through Zayneb's and Adam's journal entries of oddities and marvels. I loved the incorporation of music; whenever Auntie Nandy would mention a specific song, I would look it up and play it while reading the rest of the interaction. Lots of good ones included, and I discovered the lovely vibe and beauty of Nazia Hassan's "Aap Jaisa Koi" as well as Terry Jack's "Seasons in the Sun"

This covered a lot of heavy and relevant topics, which made for a reflective read that was both heartbreaking and inspiring. I am eager to read more from S. K. Ali!

My (many) annotations from reading:

They say friends are the family you choose. And yeah, I guess that's sort of true, if family is made up of people you put up with because they care about you and you them.

"Never, ever quake in in the face of hate, Zayneb." ... She made it look so easy. But then I thought about the hard parts of speaking up. About why it's so difficult to do the right thing in front of those with the power to affect your life. Say, to affect your future, your grades at school, your experience learning. Your experience living.

"... She believed in such a world. A world where everyone got a turn, a season in the sun. ... She was a beautiful soul like that." ... That was deep. To think you were one of many who deserved great things. To be so unbelievably gracious, graceful.

He had told me a long time agaothat what he liked best about being Muslim was the peace to be found in it.
....
"Well, I like looking for it, for the peace in things. That's why I'm a Muslim. It's someone who knows there's more to life than just going through it, letting things happen. I make sense of everything, that there's more to it than just me and my worries, knowing it's all connected."

"I want justice. And I want it now. For everyone. ... And sometimes I feel like I'm the only person who feels this way so strongly. Because I'm the only one in class speaking up. The only one in my family, that's for sure, who cares this much. Who goes on marches and writes stuff and just gives a care."
"Maybe they do in their own way. ... Maybe everyone does. Care about justice on some level "

It hurt that some lives were worth less.

I was in this weird space of not wanting to be alone and wanting to not be crowded, either.

"Sorry not sorry to say this to you, Emma P., but that's what people who don't feel the pain of injustice say."

"But are we better people? Is it better just to look away? Or post a few words of outrage online? What's so BETTER about that?"
...
"Last year, on our senior trip, we went to Belgium, and we saw all these shoes, over four thousand, laid out to remember Palestinian lives lost in the last decade. That's the kind of better we mean."
"But did those things make a difference? NO!"

"I'm not a violent person. I'm not advocating violence. But I am advocating for more people to get angry. Get moved."

I looked at their kind faces, reassessing, and I realized something. They weren't the enemy. Their ignorance was bothersome, but they weren't the enemy. 

"That itch in your heart for justice was put there by God. Your bravery, too. Don't let anyone squash it -- it's like squashing the source of it."

Maybe it had been this journal. This way of noticing that even during the suckiest moments of life there was something marvelous to be seen, heard, touched. Or just a tiny awe felt in the heart. Maybe it was going out of my way to notice something, this noticing, that had saved me all along. And now I couldn't see anything good. Because I had stopped trying.

You need to have a way to take care of yourself. A way to recharge. Otherwise the world will get you down so fast, you won't be able to hold your head up. I learned this the hard way."

"Like, I'm a person who feels things strongly. And I don't know how to deal with my feelings. The way society tells me to. Which is mostly to ignore them."

MS

was unreliable, but I vowed to enjoy the good days. And the good in every day.

There was a reason love was a round-sounding word. It completed you, and then some, like treading a circular path, the way it was immemorial. Whole. But also... infinite. It went on and on as long as you went on and on, to meet it, keep it, treasure it.

Please, God, don't let the hatred through which others see the world distort my own sense of justice. 

Finally, from the author's acknowledgements:

You understand that I write the rain and the sunny days into my stories.