I finished What happened to Sophie Wilder last night. I liked it. I was a little distracted while reading it because I was trying to figure out if the characters were cliche or if the writer was being ironic. Or maybe I’m just to old now to romanticize the young adult, wildly witty student, too smart for college, probably smarter than all the professors. If not smarter, so much more cool than to play by the rules. No concern for grades or attendance. No parents to speak of, or if there are parents, no need to check in with them. No need to have jobs to pay for stuff. Or if they do have jobs, they are writers or poets or on scholarships (even though they never go to class). None of them work at Dairy Queen or in retail. They all have seemingly singular relationships with each other and no other friends or relationships to be concerned about. I don’t think I’m expressing this very well, but do you know what I mean? Kind of makes me want to go back and read some of those brat pack writers from the early 90s. Maybe the characters in this book are in homage to them. I think I’ll pick up a copy of The Secret History (I loved that book) and see if it holds up. way…about the story. It was a lot about creating the story. Two writers, Sophie and Charlie, when they’re together in college, create stories together. We get their history, then a picture of Sophie’s life after college when she becomes religious and quits writing. Even then though, she turns to the stories of the bible. During that time Charlie writes a novel and gets it published, but admits it’s not really a story, it’s a narration almost word for word of the people and events in his own life. Then when they meet up again, they pick back up on creating the (the) story. I think we get two versions of their future. Maybe like two alternative universes. Maybe, and probably more likely, one’s real and one is one of their creations (Charlie’s). Or maybe they both exist somehow. It seemed fitting though to have kind of a fantasy ending, one that was not just a replay of they way life is, but one created by a writer.