Just wanted to send a note of thanks to the author whose books raised me. My dad died in 2001 when I was 12, and luckily he left me with a love of reading, a passion for learning, and the determination to seek out answers. We come from a very abusive, abused family. After he died, I really had no one and all I could think to do was read. My school librarian handed me the first Alice book, and after that I returned to the library over and over again to gobble up the rest. Outside the covers of those books, I was told I was selfish, disgusting, shameful, and a slut, and I was threatened and abused constantly. But when my nose was in a book, I was allowed some peace and quiet to myself, and I learned how to love myself. Alice was curious and brave and loving and I pretended I was a part of her family. I learned and cultivated empathy by reading those books, and I believe they helped me survive. I’ve been healing recently, and Alice pops into my head a lot, like an old friend. Wishing you well. Thank you so much for everything.