Teenaged. Clinomaniac. Caffeine Addicted. Fangirl. Bibliomaniac. Introverted.
Nathaniel Hawthorne's gripping psychological drama...
You see, books tend to lose their "grip" on their readers when character deaths are drawn out for nearly 20 pages, or whole chapters are devoted to describing a garden or Phoebe's bedroom or the sunshine or the cent-shop. So essentially, the reader has very little hope of ever being "gripped" in the first place, considering that a rather large portion of the first (lengthy) chapter is devoted to describing the House, which as we all know, is the real main character of this book.
But Hawthorne does rock the descriptive narratives.
On a completely unrelated note, there was one paragraph that just...ew. Seriously. I did NOT need to know what Clifford "noticed" about Phoebe. Nope.