 Now it's time to get bibliotechnical. Our debaters are going to face the firing line. Will they come up with novel answers to my questions? Or will they draw a blank page and find themselves permanently shelved? My book would be the most well-known physician at the turn of the 20th century, Dr. William Osner, who was... And it is a marvel of construction, with Faye the narrator as the jam joining the various narrative pieces. Now you ask him, have you ever eaten battenburg cake and I tell you no. It's not the kind of dessert I usually order. And you ask him, how do you know about battenburg cake? And also, of course, the hips, fireworks, because is there really any other song that you can justify listening to on your midnight road trip? On your midnight road trip through the Canadian back roads. My soundtrack has two themes. One is questioning, because most of the novel she was questioning, and the other is doppelganger. So, who are you? Who? Who? Who? Who? Who? And I said, hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I said, hey, what's going on? Engaging and hunting. Adolescent acid trip. Amnesiatic cheese thugs. Solemn, curious, and precise. More books. You have to roll them first. Bring them to the bank, get $1.40, put it with the extra 20 you got in your wallet, and buy it abolishably. For reasons that only make sense if you've lived through reading this book, as many pop rocks as I can get. Well, as a student who's saving money, well, my mother thinks that, I'm going to put this $1.40 into a savings account, let it grow until I die, and then generously pay $1,875 for two letters on my gravestone. I am a truck by Michelle Winters. Son of a Trickster by Eden Robinson.