Winner of the Pullitzer Prize, so obviously not my usual reading style. Expanding my literary vobocularly slightly with this one. Chick Lit it is not.
Artsy, with some great underlinable sections. But a slow read. Took me forever to finish. Maybe because it's June and June is Hell Month for mothers.
Regardless, it is a good story written as a letter from an 80 year old father to his 7 year old son in anticipation of his not being around when his son gets older.
I'd give it an 8 out of 10.
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