I didn't realize how much I related to the author of this book until I got near the end. Dillard plummeted from childhood into adulthood, banging away on the piano, writing poetry in the style of classics and in foreign languages, reading books endlessly, and falling in love (all while disappointing everyone and not caring). I read this book just when I felt like my childhood was going. My brother had left for college, I couldn't stop thinking about everything, and I felt trapped inside my skull. When I read An American Childhood, I realized that other people had felt the way I did. To an extent, I felt as if the book were a little about me.