Imogen, Obviously

by Becky Albertalli

In effect, Edith’s a modern-day Amy March. Whereas I fall squarely in the category of Wants-to-Be-Jo, Is-Actually-Meg.

I can relate

I hated that—hated the lack of certainty. My mind never really settles in a new space until I know all the rules for engagement. What’s encouraged, what’s allowed—or even what’s not allowed. Because restriction carries its own kind of safety.

I never know how hotness gets decided. Or where it stands in relation to cuteness. Or sexiness. Or beauty in general.