Don’t goldfinch that book, my friend. Pass it over to me because, lord knows, as someone in the more-or-less female assemblage, I bring to you my unreliable taste in all things literary. Women, you know. We can’t be trusted to read a book.
Just the fact that we enjoy or admire something is, all on its own, enough to sully achievement.
Didn’t you realize?
Read all about it in this article by Jennifer Weiner up at The Guardian.