Ida B’s book comes with a subtitle, which you probably can’t read in that tiny little image, so here’s the whole thing: Ida B…and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World.

So I’m thinking, Cool. A funny book.

I started crying on page 41 and didn’t really stop until the end.

I don’t particularly enjoy crying. My eyes get all red and swollen, and I have to use a bunch of tissue to mop up snot and tears. It’s ugly.

But I couldn’t stop reading.

Ida B is ten years old. She lives with her parents on their farm, and spends almost all of her free time in the apple orchard, talking to the trees and the stream. She’s so hilarious, and endearing, and it just killed a little bit of my soul when she enters her Black Period and suffers through depression.

Even when she’s depressed, Ida B is amusing – even funny – and I found myself falling in love with her. She’s a cool little kid, so creative, and her strategies for coping with the difficult turns in her life reminded me of being ten. Caught between imagination and reality, the line still isn’t there completely, but you’re starting to realize there’s a difference between the two. I ache for that time. Going through boxes of my childhood things this weekend (post about that later) doesn’t ease the feeling of nostalgia.

It was a great book. I couldn’t put it down (probably because I knew I’d never smile again if I didn’t get to the redeeming end). If you’re one of those people who likes watching sad movies or reading sad books, this is definitely for you. And even if you don’t particularly enjoy, you know, weeping in your spare time, you might like the book anyway.