This book, as my favorite of Jodi's, stands in for the whole Picoult oeuvre, which I read mostly over the course of one summer and which is the proving ground for the split in my reading personality -- snob vs. storylover. Picoult is sentimental, always takes on at least one Issue, and pretty much smacks you at the end of each chapter, if not each section, with pithy Theme Sentences, but she manages to avoid after-school specialiness almost totally (no, I don't know how that's possible). She also is a whale of a storyteller, telling stories that should be REALLY predictable not all that predictably, she can twist your heart even while your head is spouting off things like "after-school specialiness," and she has a remarkable knack for authentic teenage voices (albeit white middle-class ones).