I'd never felt more myself. Or more in tune to what I was and what I was capable of. A moment of authenticity when fate and blueprint collide and everything is not only possible, but within arm's reach. And I fell in love. It's been almost six years since I read Sarah Winman's debut novel When God Was a Rabbit ( Kani nimeltä jumala in Finnish), just on the basis of the front cover and the description on the back. A year ago I read her second novel, A Year of Marvellous Ways ( Merenneidon vuosi ). Both were OK, but no more than OK, so I wasn't expecting much more from Winman's third novel, Tin Man . In fact, I was so unexcited about the novel that, after borrowing it from the library with the intention of reading it, I kept moving it lower and lower down in my pile of TBR books until finally the inevitable day came when I had renewed the loan six times (the maximum!), i.e. selfishly kept the book - still unread - in my pile for more than half a year! So it w...