I have yet to find out what draws you to a certain book on the library shelf. I read the inside jacket of each selection to ensure that I don't end up with 20 pounds of reading that I know I can't carry, but it's usually only the spine that has the power to bring me to a certain book to begin with. Somehow, I ended up exchanging my failed start at a (rather boring) typical novel, its cover swirled with coils and calligraphy, for a pink spine reading "Rat." The 60s inspired girl on the cover was interesting enough, so that was that.

I don't know what it was the simplicity of the writing, the honesty of Rat, or the strange give and take between a seemingly happy upbringing and the harsh reality of the grown up world. It wasn't a book that changed my life or made me smile after reading the last line, but Rat, despite the title, charmed me just enough.