When Life Echoes Book?

I recently read the book Prep. Honestly, I thought it was terrible. But honestly, I had a hard time putting it down. My only explanation, justification, rationalization is that in some twisted way I could relate the narrator, Lee. Talk about frightening. Lee is terribly insecure, whiny, and self-absorbed. Wow. It's scary to think that I could be all of those things.

Like Lee, I left my home in the Midwest to attend and *elite* school on the East Coast. Settling in was harder than expected. Moving from corn fields and homecoming bonfires to the world of Kate Spade purses and beamers is not easy, and I did turn inwards. It took me a while to come out of my shell and reconcile who I was with where I was. But I did. The narrator never does. Although she achieved her dream, she remains bitter throughout, apparently haunted by her past life as a small town daughter of people she considers nobodies.

Like the narrator, my parents also called me a snob. That still stings. Since when does liking nice things make one a snob? Personally, I consider myself to me more of a snob than a brat. But then again that's just semantics.

While the book struck a chord with me on an emotional level, I did not like it. Perhaps because it made me see things in myself I didn't like. However, I am inclined to think it is more because of the overall vacuous characterization of the students and the narrator who never grows up and realizes its her family who should be embarrassed of her and not the other way around.