I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud…

Holy cow.  I just read this passage in Nick Hornby’s Juliet, Naked.

It’s fucking uncanny.


The fifteen years were gone, anyway.  And what had gone with them?  Children, almost certainly, and if she ever did take Duncan to court, that’s what she would sue him for.  But what else?  What hadn’t she done because she’d spent too much time with a boring, faithless nerd, apart from live the kind of life she’d wanted when she was twenty-five?


It always amazes me to no end when I read something that feels like it was plucked right out of my thoughts.  I suppose that’s the sign of an excellent writer.


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