Janet Fitch, White Oleander

A friend had recommended White Oleander to me years ago, and since she was one of the most prolific and interested readers I'd ever met, I put it on my list. When I saw it at the yard sale across the street for .25, I fished out a quarter and brought the book home.

The novel was beautifully written and evocative, but I had a hard time both suspending disbelief and giving the author credibility; as the novel is written as a first-person autobiography, it feels disturbingly voyeuristic since it was ostensibly written by someone with a far less horrifying background than the one portrayed.

One thing I did find very interesting was the way that place functions as a character in the novel. The descriptions of California were probably my favorite part of the book.