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How to Build a Girl: "I wish these cunts knew about Alexander Woollcott."

Caitlin Moran's debut novel How to Build a Girl continues in this delightful readalong hosted by Emily at As the Crowe Flies (and Reads). You should buy this book. Just fyi. It's the pants. And I have made a Spotify playlist for it: How to Build a Girl: The Dolly Wilde Experience. If you've been paying close attention to the book, you will appreciate the hell out of that list. Just saying.

So our heroine is now 16-years-old and a high school dropout, but whatever because she has an impressive job reviewing music and is already an excellent writer who calls the Smashing Pumpkins "the new Emperors of Mournful Grunge." I think we're all pretty positive this is just Caitlin Moran's life, but none of us care, because it is fantastically written.

Thanks, Caitlin, we know.

I don't think a book about teenagers has ever made me relive as much of that time of my life as How to Build a Girl. Shoving brothers off the chair that's used for the one computer? Oh right. I did that. Feeling an IRRESISTIBLE NEED TO EDUCATE PEOPLE because they are just wandering through life sadly ignorant of the joys that could be theirs if they would only listen/read/watch the thing you are trying to force them to like? Well. I mean. That still happens.

Since my mother ruled the house music-wise, though, I never got to listen to music beyond The King and I, and when I was angry at my parents I had only one album with electric guitars, so I would blast the original cast recording of Bat Boy at them. Take that, Mom and Dad. I hope this surrealist Off-Broadway satire makes you rethink not letting me go to the movies.


So I know basically no bands and have been on a quest since age 16 to not stare blankly when someone mentions...basically anyone.  The only song mentioned so far in How to Build a Girl that I've already known is Sixteen Going on Seventeen from Sound of Music. We didn't even watch Annie in my house. I trust Caitlin Moran in the whole rock music area since she was, of course, a music critic. Like her heroine. Who is her. So this book now becomes a fascinating look at early '90s British rock, as guided by a 16-year-old with a penchant for sexual thoughts about Blackadder's noble Lord Flashheart (something I still don't understand).

Maybe I understand it a little

I continue to recommend this book to people and it continues to be swell. Barring some weird left turn, I am completely behind it as a novel. Caitlin Moran should maybe probably write more right now so we can read it when we're done with this what else are we supposed to DO.

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