Review: Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi
It was a handful of years ago now that I went away to Florida for graduate school. I was going to study poetry, though I already fancied myself a bit of a poet. What I hoped to learn most of all—and I'm not sure I ever articulated this to my peers there, though maybe I did, on some night obliterated by cheap beer and sweat—was control. Being a "master" of an art, I thought, is to tame that art—to control it fully, to have words at your command, to know when to rein t...
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