MR sent me this book, and it came at the perfect time: in the dead of a leaf-less, below-zero, sharp, cold winter. It's a compilation of essays from an advice column (Dear Sugar), and the stories warm me up on days that are cold. They're not your average "Dear Abby" kind of letters; Sugar tells it like it is, and her responses to readers are often entangled with her own effed up life experiences. The pages are so saturated in empathy, you could almost wring them out. It's wonderful, and even better than that, it's really real. One of my favorite chapters, entitled: "Write Like a Motherfucker" starts out with a letter that says, "Right now, I'm a pathetic and confused young woman of twenty-six, a writer who can't write. I've sat here, at my desk, for hours, mentally immobile[...]" She then goes on to give several more eerily relatable details about her mutual love for and fear of writing and then asks, "How does a woman ge...