When I came across the description of Amy Julia Becker’s White Picket Fences, two thoughts immediately struck my mind: (1) I have to read this book; and (2) I don’t want to read this book. Ignorance is bliss, am I right? I read the book. Actually, I devoured the book. Becker unveiled things I didn’t want to see about myself and my upbringing, but she did so in a very non-assuming, humble, “I am with you in this” sort of... Read more