Woke up this rainy morning to find this in my email inbox from my neighbour Virginia, a librarian who is of course an avid reader and about to leave for a long trip to Europe:
I just finished reading All My Loving and I wanted to write to say how very much I enjoyed it. (Too much perhaps. I should have been cleaning the house before I leave!) You perfectly captured all the joy and sorrow and angst – so much angst! – of being a teenage girl in the 1960s – or any time.
It bought back my adolescence so vividly that I plan to order another copy for my friend, Hilary, but known to me in the summer 1965 as Mrs. George Harrison. In retrospect it concerns me that I was quite happy to be Mrs. John Lennon and Cynthia be damned. And I still think Paul was a choir boy. Old loyalties die hard.
Anyway, well done. A memoir worth remembering.
