Where the Crawdads Sing
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When two young men from town become…
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With a well-tuned Inner Critic, Cynic, who is always on high alert, reads a book for pure pleasure, falling into the story, walking near the characters, feeling the sun in my arms, often getting harder. Rain falls on my shoulders, their emotions reach deep and are kept. Still, when it does, I’m evaluating my experience, and I regret that I return to books that are less magical, more ordinary, and too often, bad, for days, sometimes weeks.