This was a ridiculously fun novel, one that seems perfectly designed to be read on beaches, preferably with a drink that has an umbrella in it. But beneath the fun, frothy veneer is an indictment of pop culture. Because while yes, we all watch TV, there are so many mindless shows and we're all complicit in the fact that, for example, According to Jim was on the air for probably something like nine years (I know that a conscientious reviewer would imdb it but I think knowing for sure exactly how long it's been on would sap my faith in humanity) and Veronica Mars only lasted for three. (Firefly didn't even get a full season!)

And while a lot of that is Hollywood's fault, the blame is also with us. We watch what we are given to watch and we rarely demand better.

But that's too serious a discussion for this blog.

I completely fell in love with Ruthie, who is brilliant and wickedly funny and incredibly self-conscious. We could be best friends (if she lived in Baltimore and were a real person, of course) and I spent the entire novel hoping that she would get her happy ending.

If you want a fun read that also has depth, this is for you.