I woke up this morning to my mother shouting from the next room "Jerramy Fine Likes you." Of course, I knew this was in the Facebook sense of the word but it took me a minute to figure out why the author of the book I just finished would pay me any attention. Then I remembered - I wrote a post in my personal blog, Chronicles of My Quarterlife Crisis, two days ago in which I informally reviewed her book. Review may be the wrong word - I loved her book.
It's her autobiographical account of her childhood in a small U.S. country town, raised by hippies, and her obsession with finding her English prince. I feel like I know Jerramy Fine, not just because I've read her autobiographical novel, but because her life and mine are eerily alike. Growing up in a small country town among hippies and cowboys is one thing we have in common, but more importantly, we share the feeling of being misplaced at birth. Like the Stork's GPS system failed, and we were really supposed to go to argyle-clad families in thatched English cottages.
We both scooted over to England at the first opportunity, but the difference is - she didn't let anything stop her from staying there. Living in England is a difficult thing to do as an American girl. Immigration authorities are not kind. It's nearly impossible to get a work permit. Finding a British boyfriend... well, nobody tells that story better than she does. The woes and perils of modern dating are heart-breakingly represented. I'd love to pick her brain on "Ben and Xander's Guide to English Dating" which I posted after visiting Oxford last year, since I believe she somehow managed to get scaredy-cat Brits to ask her out on dates (a feat that Ben and Xander declared highly unlikely).
Cheers!