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The writing is atrocious. It's like reading a sixteen-year-old's blog. The plot was dull. Nothing interesting happens. No prose, no plot. This leaves us with character. Presumably the dreadful narrative voice and absence of plot is considered excusable because it's a real person revealing their heart and soul. Nevada fails in this regard too. Nothing is revealed. Every time Maria comes close to sharing something real, something ugly, something brutally honest, or embarrassing, or difficult, Binnie flinches, and escapes behind an ink cloud of evasive language. 'Whatever, or something, who cares'. This story is made with the kind of dishonesty and self-deception a writing teacher would grade with a zero, with the words 'Bullshit! DIG DEEPER' scrawled beneath in red ink. I'm dismayed to see that nobody is willing to give her this kind of feedback. What do you think caused your GID? What exactly is it you're shutting yourself off from? How do you feel about yourself? Binnie doesn't come close to answering any of these questions, if she even tries at all. Instead we get a lot of canned theory and shallow observations. I get the idea that this may be a level of introspection that Maria is unwilling or unable to perform, but then the task falls on the writer to tease it out of her, whether through the plot or by putting it somewhere 'between the lines' so to speak, and Binnie just doesn't seem to have the skill as a writer to make it happen. I was disappointed by her lack of courage.