Last week I read:

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As far as I can tell, the reason she is like that is because she's a narcissist. This is a book I'd come across often, admiring the title each time. It was the best thing about this bland piece of self-importance.

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This is the first thing I have read by J-Diddy, but not the last. Not as crushing as I had braced myself for, but in the aftermath of easing back into her "normal" life, I felt the pieces of emotion and confusion seep through. Compelling.

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I am proud to say that I was the very first person at my library to read this book, having put it on hold months in advance. By now her themes are familiar - The East Coast of the states vs. India, the navigation of immigration and generational ties, secrets, bonds. Strong delicate, inspirational prose. I am going to attempt to see Ms Lahiri at a reading next week, for which no tickets are to be issued. It is a chance worth taking.

I'm in the middle of reading Haruki Murakami's memoir, which is doing an excellent job of reminding me what a lazy, useless human piece of waste I am. I will hold off because I am about to collect another book on hold, which is in high demand resulting in a reduced loan period. Will report more later.