You know that feeling you get from holding a new book in
your hands, excited by the promise of the first few pages? That’s how I felt when I first read A Girl Named Digit by Annabel
Monaghan. It was a Saturday
morning. My Kindle and I crept
downstairs in the dim morning light and hid under a blanket on the far end of
the couch in the sunroom, pretending that we were still asleep. In that way, I disappeared from my
family’s radar for the better part of the morning, and by the time they found
me and begged for breakfast, I was already hooked on Digit.
And
that was good news, because before reading her novel, I was already hooked on
Annabel Monaghan.
Annabel and I met in a novel
writing workshop at Sarah Lawrence College in the Fall of 2010. She was there to workshop a project
called Digit, and since her novel was completed and the rest of ours were not,
we read her manuscript first. In
person, Annabel is funny and self-deprecating and humble and smart. She’s the one you want to sit next to
in class so that you can pass notes back and forth and give each other
meaningful eye rolls, as if a continuing education course at a local college is
the same setting as your high school biology lab. (Which, in a way, it is.) By week two, we had our own little
inside jokes. As I sank into my couch, I desperately hoped that her book would
live up to the real her. Continue reading here.
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