Pushing the Limits, excuse my profanity, is a bastard to follow up on. It was such an emotional, powerful book, so neat and well-constructed, that I was wary to pick up the next one. I needn’t have been entirely terrified, Dare You To is still a pretty good book with enjoyable things to reccomend it. I simply didn’t love it as much as I wanted to. I didn’t even cry once. It made me question, for a moment, if McGarry had lost her touch to regularly make me bawl like a little baby who got pricked by their first vaccination.
A big, angry, devastated baby
To me, it’s construction and execution didn’t seem as tight and effortlessly fluid as Pushing the Limits. In Pushing The Limits, it really felt like the the characters and their relationships with each other, with the world, with their flawed perceptions were all part of an intricate dance in a wonderful universe where everything made sense.