#11: My Real Children (Jo Walton)

This book was wonderful, and I am loathe to say anything about it at all — if the back-cover copy appeals, my recommendation is that you read it post-haste. A divergent biography. There, a nice, unspoilery description.

(I should’ve known better than to try and finish this one off during lunch — I was getting red-eyed and sniffly at the diner.)

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