“The Glass Castle”, by Jeanette Walls

I resisted reading this for a long time.  I said that it didn’t sound interesting, or relevant to me, or some such thing.  When I finally picked it up (from our local Little Free Library) and opened it, I recognized a sense of dread.  Turns out I’d been afraid to read it.

I needn’t have been.  It’s wrenching and awful, yes, but somehow funny and passionate at the same time.  Walls never asks for sympathy; she just tells it like it was.  It’s a fascinating portrayal of family life completely unlike what I experienced growing up.  She’s a wonderful storyteller, and I finished the book in a day or two.

A book like this shows me how everyone I meet has their own unimaginable story, and reminds me that we all have u“>nmet needs, some recent, some a lifetime old.