When I was a teenager, my parents used to buy The Times on a Saturday and this is where I first discovered Caitlin Moran. I idolised her, I used to cut out all her columns and put them in a scrapbook.
I currently have so many books on my “to read” pile that it’s taken me a while to start reading her books, hence why I’ve only just read this one. And I loved it. This got read in a few hours and I’m already planning on re reading it soon. This novel is the novel I’d have killed for when I was 14-16.
If I were a teenager reading this, it would be my Bible. I’d carry it around in my bag. Relevant passages would be highlighted, post it notes would be bookmarking my favourite sections, it would be re read endlessly. A photo of Morrissey would be my bookmark. If you have a teenage daughter, give her this book immediately. She needs to know that she isn’t alone in the hell that is the teenage girl’s life.
So many incidents screamed out to my teenage memories, I don’t know how many times I’ve cringed in mortification reading this book, but it’s too many. Beautifully written by a mind who’s memories are fresh. Accurately written descriptions of teenage humiliation written by a mind who isn’t afraid to put it all out there in flesh and blood. When I think about it, this book shouldn’t be limited to teenage girls, give it to the boys as well.
I can’t get enough of this book and by the end of it, I found myself craving more of Dolly Wilde’s story. I need to know what happens next. I’m not ready to let her go just yet and surely that is a sign of a classic character in literature.
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