I've just finished reading Anna Quindlen's Every Last One. I love her books and this one was no exception although I found that I cried a lot. Not as much as I did at the end of The Leisure Seeker by Michael Zadoorian - that was howling and soaking the pillow territory - but I probably cried for longer at a lower level. Anna Quindlen's characters are so well developed you tend to feel that you're right there with them so when really, really, really, really awful things happen, as they do in Every Last One, you feel a little bit like it's happening to you too. I am now reading Louis de Berniere's Notwithstanding in successful bid to cheer myself up again.