I was given a proof copy of The Language of Flowers, and along with it came a recommendation. Now, I get given many proof copies of novels, but I’ve never felt this good about one before. Before I’d even opened it, I knew I was in for a treat; it exudes greatness in the most peculiar way, before I’d even set eyes on a chapter. But what I found when I did open it, was something of a marvel. Diffenbaugh not only brought to us the astoundingly perfectly formed idea of using the language of flowers as a definitive substance for the plot, but she does it in such a way, using such incredible characters, that I felt like I was in the book, a bystander yet involved heavily in their lives. Victoria, the struggling protagonist, will create a mixing bowl of emotions within you, persuading you to dislike her and what she does, but forcing you to love her in spite of it. I can’t say too much, for fear of giving it away. But I can say this: I have been kicking myself since finishing the book, for a) not having written it myself, and b) for finishing it at all. I wanted it to go on and on, to continue pulling me in and blowing me over. I shall give this to every woman I know, recommend it to every woman I meet and make sure I read it again and again. I only hope that through this novel, flowers will again become something other than a quick apology, or a new home gesture. I hope the language makes a welcome comeback. - Laura