By the Book

by Amanda Sellet

Here’s a secret I’ve never told anyone: Sometimes I pretend my life is happening inside a book. I’m the main character, and there’s a narrator following me around, describing everything. Her piercing cerulean eyes gazed wistfully into the distance as an errant breeze caressed her lustrous auburn tresses . . . Et cetera. Obviously I’m the good kind of heroine, not someone whose poor life choices will lead to her dying of consumption while still in her teens. And I’m wearing a long dress, and maybe there’s a handsome stranger in the distance.

IT ME

From damned if you do to damned if you don’t: the story of women’s lives.

“You said she had a condition?” Terry looked questioningly at me. “Ennui. It’s like boredom, except you think it makes you interesting.”

I DIED AT THIS

Dear Diary, Today I’m going to see a movie without reading the book first. Mea culpa.

“Be true to yourself and other people will see your worth. If they’re worth your time.”