I am in love.
Yes, with an amazing man, but that's not what I was thinking here. My love is more along the lines of an adoration for a new favorite author. This week I finally finished reading Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife. I had read Prep my freshman year in college, thanks to a former roommate's suggestion. More recently, I finished Man of my Dreams while on my way to San Antonio and found myself in need of a book on the flight back to Boston. As a result, I bought my first book since January - the library is wonderful and saves money assuming books are returned on time. And well worth the $16 plus tax (8.25%! Can you believe it?!), too.
I'm really not one to get caught up and gush over a book. What I love is the development of Sittenfeld's characters: In American Wife's case, Alice. Unlike many other story line stars I've read Alice and the others have a raw realness to them. They are far from perfect but the flaws are believable. I feel like I know them - they are either my friends, or friends of my parents, depending on the age. And often I feel kindred with them. Bad things come, good things come, and life just happens. But when the events happen - they have a reason. It isn't some mindless adventure of some 20-something journalist or lawyer fashionista trying to find love in the big city. They come back later to play a role in the formation of the characters and to show exactly how they have grown. I love that. I appreciate that about an author - the foresight and foreshadowing is not lost on me; or at least I hope not.
While the books haven't changed my life, and they don't claim to, I am certainly saddened at the end of each. Satisfied because all of the ends are tied neatly, but saddened because I wish the writing can continue. Guess I will just have to follow Sittenfeld's columns when they come out. It's going to be a while before the next book appears.
In the mean time, if you're reading this Ms. Sittenfeld, please write another novel!
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