I loved this book, I savored it — it stuck in my head all through the day until I got back to it again (couldn't put it down.) I’m not sure if I can say anything more than what has already been said about why it’s such a darn good book. Lynne Tillman’s writing is effortless, and she sails along at a steady clip with spare prose that is complex in its simplicity — fully loaded with gritty reality. This book is documenting the human condition — what I love to call a “human document” — the coming of age of three girls and their becoming women, being defined (or haunted) by parents, by friends, by lovers. All three striking out on their own, losing their virginity, losing themselves, gaining experience, growing up, moving on — making that comfortable distance from uncomfortable pasts — square pegs escaping the monotony of fitting in the security of round holes left open for them to drop into, it would be too easy for them to do the expected. It is timeless fiction, the story ends without ending (life goes on as it should.)