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It is my never humble opinion that if a whole genre of books about young men trying to figure out their place in the world…wait, isn’t that pretty much all we’ve been exposed to for centuries? Well, now the women have struck back with mixed results. Sure, if I never read about another New York editorial assistant with a tyrant boss again it will be too soon, but I do so love books that (unlike some current trends in romance) assume a woman has a) problems, b) a weird relationship with food and/or her mother, and c) a hard time figuring out this planet. It’s cool to see women writing about their real lives and cool that people out there are taking the trend seriously.

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