I often wonder why adults forget what it’s like to be children, and how they can feel comfortable inflicting on younger generations the same kind of abuses they suffered, like being called “stupid” by an adult, or being told that what you have to say is not — and will never be — important. If you think you might have let your memories of what it’s like to be a pre-teen kid slip away, pick up The Greatest of Marlys by Lynda Barry. Continue reading