One of the only pieces of fiction about psychotherapy that conveys something of how it actually works in reality. Sure, it's a bit idealized, but it doesn't fall into the trap of cliche. Literature and films about psychologists or psychiatrists usually fall into one of two overworked tropes: the therapist turns out to be crazy, or the therapist ends up seducing the patient — and even when these are avoided, the whole notion of patient-therapist boundary is ignored. Rossner's interweaving of the back story of the therapist with the story of the therapy is nicely done, with both characters shown to be human and fallible, and the therapist for once is actually competent and insightful. As a psychiatrist myself, I find it refreshing to read something about my field that is not just soap opera clearly written by someone who has no idea of the subject. It's very rare. Rossner nailed it better than anyone else I can think of.