Kate Geiselman: The Last Book I Loved, The Great Gatsby
I was eight years old the first time I heard of The Great Gatsby.
My mom took my two teenage sisters to see the movie as soon as it was released. I was jealous my sisters got to go and I didn’t; they lived on a mysterious and sophisticated plane where they had boyfriends, embroidered their jeans, wore halter tops and painted their nails.
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At the moment, I’m writing in a cafeteria full of adult nerds who are parents of teenaged nerds, some of whom will likely be running the country twenty years from now.