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“In the tunnel were I was raped…a girl had been murdered…In comparison, they said, I was lucky…I described the assault, the blow job, talked about how cold I was, detailed the robbery of $8 from my back pocket, his kiss good-bye, his apology. Our parting ‘...and he said, ‘Hey girl.’ I turned around. He said, ‘What is your name?’ I said ‘Alice.’” “Without a name attached to my story, it remains fiction, not fact.” I read The Lovely Bones as a college student, so I was determined to read Lucky after learning publishers were pulling it from the shelves after the recent exoneration of her wrongly convicted rapist. But while the accused may have been erroneous, the author’s experience is grievously relevant. “People think a woman stops fighting when she is physically exhausted, but I was about to begin my real fight, a fight of words and lies and the brain.” “I’ve always thought that under rape in the dictionary it should tell the truth. It is not just forcible intercourse; rape means to inhabit and destroy everything…It’s not ‘that thing that happened to me,’ or ‘the assault,’ or ‘the beating,’ or ‘that’...it’s important to call it what it is…It’s rape’…It was a planet where an act of violence changed your life…My rapist…the husband to my fate…The woman who is ripped open by violence and then asked to parcel out redemption for the rest of her life.” “The world was not divided for me then as it is now…I would enter what I’ve thought of since as my real neighborhood, a land of subdivision where tracts are marked off and named. There are two styles available: the safe and the not safe…‘You can’t tell me you want to spend the rest of your life this way.’ She was talking real estate and apartment size but they were words…that took on a different meaning for me…I had gone through a death-and-rebirth phenomenon in the span of one year. Rape to trial.” A resurrection.