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Maybe it’s because I’m 41 years old. But I hated the girl around whom this book was based. She’s like the female equivalent of a d-bag. Is there a word for that? I feel like you can’t call a woman a d-bag. Margo Roth Spiegelman, god, even the name is pretentious. (But I remember it. Damn you, John Green.) I don’t remember the protagonist’s name but I remember hers. Great.

So anyway, the main character (Quentin – I just had to look it up) is hung up on Margo, his next door neighbor since childhood. They saw a dead body together when they were very young. It seems like this should be more significant than it is. Instead, Margo selects Quentin to accompany her on this selfish, destructive trail of revenge on people she felt have “wronged” her. Then she runs away, makes everyone believe she killed herself, and then leaves a cryptic trail of clues for Quentin to find her.

This girl needs to get over herself, and grow the F up. Maybe coming from the perspective of a parent, I would be furious with her. Yes, she’s 18 and considered an adult when she leaves, but still. However, I guess her parents are kind of vacuous assholes who probably created the monster that is Margo anyway.

Just a lot of UGH for me with this book. It had its good moments. I liked the interaction between Quentin and his friends. Seemed like legit teenager stuff. Green definitely knows teens, and he knows how to write FOR teens. Like I said, I’m 41. I liked The Fault in Our Stars, and thought this one might be good as well. Eh.

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