It's rare I find a book that holds my attention. I've been jaded by the book industry - that's the truth of the matter - and I'm picky as hell. I 'know' whether or not a book is worthy of my time, brain and absorption into my soul within the first few sentences. White Oleander drew me in just like the beautiful yet poisonous flower that it is named after.
It's wonderful to read a book written with care and exquisite use of language. Might as well feed myself whilst reading.
It's wonderful having a story awaiting you at the end of each day ( when I read ).
White Oleander is now passed on to my two daughters who I share my love of reading and writing with - because I know they will devour and absorb the story like I have.
My faith in meaty, real stories is confirmed. They stick with you....for days after finishing.
And, any story set in my favorite place on earth already has it's foot in the door of my heart. Homage to California.
I write YA books. Whatever my heart desires, I write. I don't have someone over my shoulder, in some office somewhere telling me what I can and cannot write. Or should and shouldn't write. I listen to my heart, the center of my muse, and trust my instincts.