This is one of those books, like Jane Eyre, that I wish I’d read when I was young and impressionable. It would have probably done me more good that Sweet Valley High and an endless stream of Christopher Pike, R.L. Stine and V.C. Andrews novels. Not that there’s anything wrong with those books, but a protagonist who isn’t always the prettiest or the most talented and who’s happy with a man who’s not always the most dashing or handsome would have been helpful during my […]