From the USA TODAY bestselling author of Sweet Thing and Nowhere But Here comes a love story about a Craigslist “missed connection” post that gives two people a second chance at love fifteen years after they were separated in New York City. To the Green-eyed Lovebird: We met fifteen years ago, almost to the day, when I moved my stuff into the NYU dorm room next to yours at Senior House. You called us fast friends. I like to think it was more. We lived on nothing but the excitement of finding ourselves through music (you were obsessed with Jeff Buckley), photography (I couldn’t stop taking pictures of you), hanging out in Washington Square Park, and all the weird things we did to make money. I learned more about myself that year than any other. Yet, somehow, it all fell apart. We lost touch the summer after graduation when I went to South America to work for National Geographic. When I came back, you were gone. A part of me still wonders if I pushed you too hard after the wedding… I didn’t see you again until a month ago. It was a Wednesday. You were rocking back on your heels, balancing on that thick yellow line that runs along the subway platform, waiting for the F train. I didn’t know it was you until it was too late, and then you were gone. Again. You said my name; I saw it on your lips. I tried to will the train to stop, just so I could say hello. After seeing you, all of the youthful feelings and memories came flooding back to me, and now I’ve spent the better part of a month wondering what your life is like. I might be totally out of my mind, but would you like to get a drink with me and catch up on the last decade and a half? M

Includes questions for discussions and an excerpt from another novel.

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A stunning “portrait of the enduring grace of friendship” (NPR) about the families we are born into, and those that we make for ourselves. A masterful depiction of love in the twenty-first century. NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALIST • MAN BOOKER PRIZE FINALIST • WINNER OF THE KIRKUS PRIZE A Little Life follows four college classmates—broke, adrift, and buoyed only by their friendship and ambition—as they move to New York in search of fame and fortune. While their relationships, which are tinged by addiction, success, and pride, deepen over the decades, the men are held together by their devotion to the brilliant, enigmatic Jude, a man scarred by an unspeakable childhood trauma. A hymn to brotherly bonds and a masterful depiction of love in the twenty-first century, Hanya Yanagihara’s stunning novel is about the families we are born into, and those that we make for ourselves. Look for Hanya Yanagihara’s latest bestselling novel, To Paradise.

As life goes on, some people begin to ask themselves questions. Questions that go deeper, beyond the surface level. Questions that require answers that give us a glimpse into the past, the present, and the future of our society. It is rare, to hold such deep discussions with another person, but some will find themselves asking, either when alone, maybe at night, or even in their ordinary day. As you read through the chapters of this book, a couple of questions will be asked, whether they are about people themselves, or society as a whole. As you read through the chapters, ask yourself the very same questions, that are asked in this book, and try to find the answers to them by using your knowledge and understanding of the situation described in each scenario.

What happens to love when life ends? Is death, so humble and silent, the very end of love, too? Wherever life goes, death follows. Sometimes it's literal, but sometimes it's just a figure of speech. Grief, change, loss, and fear, all different faces of death, can also be a consequence of love. An expression of it. If you have been in love, even unrequited; if you have lost someone dear to you; if you had to leave your home for a better future; if you believe there is something else after the last breath... then you know some answers. These stories, where reality and fiction collide, want to prove that love and death travel together, more often than we know.