Dear Donna. I know that this world can be a cruel and unfair place. I have come to terms with it, as I think everybody has to at some point in their life, but there are a few injustices that bug me a bit more than others. Sexism and racism for example, or capitalism, or the inability of the global west to recognize what it did to the rest of the world. Or the fact that a single living person was blessed with as much writing genius as you were and was then also able to mold it into life-changingly impactful novels. Damn you, Donna. Leave some talent and for the rest of us you enigmatic temptress, will ya? Most of you probably already know that I am convinced The Secret History is one of the best novels ever written. Strong statement, but I stand by it. In fact, I loved it so much that I was CONVINCED that every other Donna Tartt book could only disappoint me. But boy, was I wrong. New York, the Met. Art thievery, drugs, antique shops, first love, coming of age, beauty, literature, friendship. Languages, paintings, canvasses, mental illness. Death. Mourning. And then: hope. There. I have put this 864 page tome into one, two, three, four, five... twenty-seven words for you. If you want more of everything I mentioned, more and more and more of Donna Tartt's magical prose, her slow, scrumptious writing, more scenes that are DRIPPING with literary brilliance, then by all means, do yourself a favor and read the damn Goldfinch. Do it, I implore you! And then march with me to the unknown location of Donna's resitdence and demand the next manuscript, because it's 2023 and the least she can do is GIVE US MORE ALREADY. Merci. Goodbye.