Why Young Adult fiction is actually bleedin deadly

I wasn’t going to write any new stuff this week, because I’m in the depths of my dissertation, but when I get shouty I get shouty, and someone has to hear me.

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#fakereadergirls: who you be is?

Some girls grew up living for Saturday so they could head for town and spend hours at the MAC counter fawning over their latest eyeshadow. Me, I lived for Saturday mornings in Easons, perched in front of the YA book shelves, breathing it in.

Neither of us were doing it wrong. We were simply indulging in our passions.

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