Finished reading the The Adrian Mole Diaries over the weekend.
Ahhh, to be an oblivious, self-involved teen again. It really took me back. The formal English, as it often does, amplified the humor. Not such a complementary view of Americans, but I could relate to it also.
It took me 2/3 of the book to get involved and wanted more when the last third was over. Worth a visit to the local library.
It troubles me that Adrian Mole isn’t a real person. I can’t call him up and see how he’s doing. That just might be the issue I have with fiction. It’s very difficult to find more information on the imaginary.