The only book that ever made me cry. I’ve read many a tragic book, but the only character I’ve ever shed tears for was a silly little flower.

I read these for a quick chick lit fix, I like how unappologetically vacuous they are. They’re the book version of the WB teen shows I secretly tivo.

I read this book after nearly all my female friends and relatives had recommended it to me. Huge mistake! I couldn’t believe my normally discerning friends and relatives liked the annoying heroine, abusive hero, and subpar writing (let alone admited to reading it). It seems like the kind of book that should be hidden and only brought out when in need of a romantic cheese fix or a good laugh.

A frightening portrait of the future that was not very pleasant to read, but stayed with me for a long time.

If ever I could pinpoint the most brilliant single chapter I’ve ever read, it would be the third chapter in this book.