There is no shortage of volumes of correspondence between writers -- many enlightening, many fascinating or gossipy or comforting. Some are less than that. I have so many mixed feelings about this book of letters (emails) and poems exchanged between playwright and poet Sarah Ruhl and poet Max Ritvo. There was so much heart in the pages, between these two people who clearly adored each other and together tried to figure out how to live through Max's decline as he succumbed to cancer.

Where I think it suffered was, at times, was when it strived too hard for profundity. About a third of the way through their correspondence, they agreed that this would become a book, and that they would write each other longer and deeper letters. Threaded through those longer exchanges was a self-consciousness that felt, to me as a reader, like performance. They were aware of their audience and, ironically, the depth and feeling of the correspondence suffered for it.

That said, I still very much enjoyed this book and find their friendship inspiring. How can you not admire two people who express their love and affection for each other by exchanging poems? ( )

I picked up an ARC of this short book at BEA drawn to the simple serenity of the cover. This is a collection of letters between playwright and Yale professor Sarah Ruhl and Max Ritvo, a Yale student in remission from a childhood cancer. When they first meet, Max is a student in Sarah's playwriting class, filled with exuberance and incredible wit and talent. But just a few months later, Max's cancer returns and his studies are interspersed with chemo and experimental immunotherapy treatments. My husband is also in remission from cancer and it's a tough balancing act trying to live big and get the most out of life, with a constant shadow of CT scans and that huge unknown of what will happen next. The letters between Max and Sarah capture that life from a little of Max's view, but mostly from Sarah, a friend who is watching a friend lose his battle to cancer. But the beauty behind this book isn't the sadness or expression of loss, but the beautiful friendship that develops between Sarah and Max. Poignant and beautiful. ( )