I haven't got the time or space to express how much I loved reading Happy Accidents. By the end, I was slowing down to a snail's pace, so desperate was I not to finish it, knowing that then some colour would go out of my life. It is funny, touching, agonisingly reminiscent of the Eighties (I think I must be the same age as the author - 36 - because her memories are just too similar to my own)and wonderfully, vibrantly mad! I have now bought it for my mother, both sisters-in-law and about 14 friends. If you buy one book this year, make it Happy Accidents: you'll love it.