When I chose to leave graduate school to pursue my financial independence, I promised myself I would maintain my vigorous reading habits and read at least several pages of a book everyday. Doesn’t matter what book written by which critic or which author, as long as I read something to keep my mind sharp and

The Bell Jar by Slyvia Plath is the most apt and the most dangerous book for me at this point in my life. I first read it when I was fourteen and pseudo-depressed; therefore I couldn’t appreciate it very much but I thought it’d be a clever present to give to my first boyfriend anyway.