Raise your hand if you’re Mormon.

Keep it raised if you’re also female.

Sat through Young Women’s lessons, yes? Keep your hand up.

Lessons on marriage and motherhood? As in, this will happen to you? Ah, yes, I still see a lot of hands.

Marriage and motherhood didn’t happen?

Uh-huh. Only a few hands still up. Just as I thought.

Julie Rowse sat through these lessons too, and waited for the promised rewards. And waited. And waited. And finally wrote about it in her memoir, Lies Jane Austen Told Me.

Actually things didn’t look promising for Julie early on. All her friends and college roommates, the tall, willowy, blonde girls, got boyfriends as easily as an ice cream truck gets children. Short, pudgy but very funny Juliet got friends that were boys. She was a gal they could shoot pool with. Or watch the game without explaining it.

She had a lot to offer some lucky fellow. The humor. The good heart. Low-maintenance, for goodness sakes, though I wanted to take her aside a few times and whisper, “Maybe you’re a little too low-maintenance, honey.”

It wasn’t long before Julie asked herself why her church fed her such a load of crock.

Or was it her church?

I think you will root for Julie as she works her way through a collection of Mr. Almost-Rights. No doubt you knew guys just like the ones you’ll meet in her appealing little book.

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