The last chapter of this book was nice, even though I didn't much like before it. It was very nice the way everything came together in a fuzzy warm happy ending. But I have to say mid-way through I decided Alice Hoffman writes as though she's not a native English speaker, lots of random phrasing and immediate contradictions, the kind of thing a listener forgives in a toddler or a foreigner. I had no pity or comprehension for the main character who blames herself as a child for causing her mother's death by wishing it in an angry fit, lives a life of self-isolation (as a stereotypical librarian of course), and then brings misery to herself once again when she sarcastically wishes she'd be struck by lightning. There's a scientist brother with a mathematician wife, a support group for fellow lightning struck victims, and an abandoned affair with a police officer who shares her obsession with death. She lets down a bunch of people including her supposed best friend Renny and boss librarian Frances, and some moles in her yard get eaten by her cat; and there's a lot of bust heaving supernaturalesque lightning survivor sex, intrigue involving fairy tales, some suspense, and then there was the very nice ending.
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