{"product_id":"i-am-an-emotional-creature-isbn-9780812970166","title":"I Am an Emotional Creature","description":"In this daring book, internationally acclaimed author and playwright Eve Ensler offers fictional monologues and stories inspired by girls around the globe. Fierce, tender, and smart, \u003ci\u003eI Am an Emotional Creature\u003c\/i\u003e is a celebration of the authentic voice inside every girl and an inspiring call to action for girls everywhere to speak up, follow their dreams, and become the women they were always meant to be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e This paperback edition features new material about starting a discussion group based on the book.“A searing look at the inner lives of young females . . . a potent call to girls to honor their emotions and to readers of all ages to uphold human rights at every level, from the boardroom to the bedroom.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Powerful.”—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Leave it to Eve Ensler to get it right.”—\u003ci\u003eBust\u003c\/i\u003e magazine\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “The emotions are raw and intense. [Ensler’s] writing is very conversational, which gives the stories power.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Roanoke Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Provocative . . . inspiring.”—Associated PressEve Ensler is an internationally bestselling author and an acclaimed playwright whose works for the stage include\u003ci\u003e The Vagina Monologues, Necessary Targets\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Good Body\u003c\/i\u003e. She is the author of \u003ci\u003eInsecure at Last\u003c\/i\u003e, a political memoir. Ensler is the founder of V-Day, the global movement to end violence against women and girls. In the last decade, V-Day has raised more than $70 million for grassroots groups that work to end violence against women and girls around the world. Eve Ensler lives in Paris and New York City.\u003ci\u003eChapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSection I\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYOU TELL ME HOW TO BE A GIRL IN 2010\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eQuestions, doubt, ambiguity, and dissent\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehave somehow become very unmasculine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAuthoritarian maniacs are\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epremiers, czars, and presidents.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEach one is more righteous than the next.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEach town they bomb\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeach human they kill\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis done for “humanitarian” purposes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePeople don’t own the water in their own village\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand they certainly don’t own the diamonds and gold.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMillions are forced to make dinner out of garbage and dust\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhile Russian businessmen and movie stars\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eare buying 500-million-euro villas on Côte Sud.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBees have stopped making honey.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePeople are drilling in all the wrong places.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe U.S., Russia, Canada, Denmark, and Norway all claim the Arctic\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut none of them seem to care that the polar bears are drowning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey are fingerprinting, photographing our licenses and teeth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBig Brother is now in our phones, our pods, our PCs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot one of us feels even a little safer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNew Age mental health providers turn\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eout to be former war torturers with beards.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd the pope in a dress showing off his\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eermine trim and cuffs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis telling everyone that\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epeople kissing people they love is the greatest evil.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA woman running for U.S. vice president\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebelieves in creationism\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut not global warming.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy is everyone so much more afraid of sex\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethan SCUD missiles?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd who decided God wasn’t into pleasure?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd if the hetero nuclear family is so great\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow come everyone is fleeing it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor paying their life savings just\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto sit in a room with a stranger and cry about it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Iraq war cost nearly $3 trillion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can’t even count that high\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut I know\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat money could have\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewould have\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eended poverty in general\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhich would have canceled terrorism.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow come we have money to kill\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut no money to feed or heal?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow come we have money to destroy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut no money for art and schools?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fundamentalists now have\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebillion-dollar private armies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Taliban is back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut never went away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWomen are burned, raped, bludgeoned, sold,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estarved, and buried alive\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand still don’t know they are the majority.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWater is clearly nearly running out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut even in the desert where there’s serious drought\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe golf courses are green and lush\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the swimming pools are full of water\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor the twelve rich people who might decide to come.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSpecial people adopt hand-picked babies in faraway lands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTheir flights there cost more\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethan the babies’ parents made\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy don’t they just give it to them?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSlavery is back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut never went away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust ask anyone who’s been whipped\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow deep the legacy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSix million dead in the Congo\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand they never made the news,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand don’t tell me it doesn’t have\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto do with color\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand minerals.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePoor folks are dying first\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom hurricanes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShame\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTsunamis\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRadiation\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePollution\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFloods\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd neglect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRich folks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust put up fancier super-electrified gates\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon their private perfect cities.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEveryone’s having “benefits”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand throwing fancy parties\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith lots of swag\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso the rich people feel good about giving\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eaway the tiny little bit of the whole lot they have.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut no one really wants to change anything.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf you really want it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eyou have to give something up\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike everything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand then those that have, wouldn’t,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand then who would they be?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd that’s too complicated\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso they write checks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand keep doing the same old things.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSelling change.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMaking revolution profitable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCorporations own everything anyway\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven our hippie jeans, memory cells, and rain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy do so many women leaders look like Margaret Thatcher\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand act even meaner?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy doesn’t anyone remember anything?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd how come rich bad people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eget paid lots of money to give speeches\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand poor bad people are tortured\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand in prisons?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIs there anyone in charge?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOr is this whole thing spinning out until it explodes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor dissolves?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd if there is something we can do\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhy aren’t we doing it?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to fury?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to accuracy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor accountability?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to not showing off your wealth?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to kindness?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to teenagers rebelling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einstead of buying and selling?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to teenagers kissing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einstead of blogging and dissing?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat happened to teenagers marching\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand refusing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einstead of exploiting and using?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI want to touch you in real time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enot find you on YouTube,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI want to walk next to you in the mountains\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enot friend you on Facebook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGive me one thing I can believe in\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat isn’t a brand name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m lonely.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m scared.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGirls younger than me are giving blowjobs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein homeroom\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand they don’t even know it’s sex.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey just want to be popular\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand get some respect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMost girls my age are taking pills\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor not getting out of bed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor eating or starving\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor getting nose jobs or implants\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor getting cut\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor twittering away\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor covering themselves\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor desperate for a way\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be awake without faking\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be alive without freaking\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be serious\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be true\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto even think of loving someone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen we’re already doomed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou tell me how to be a girl in 2010\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI say let’s go for it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif it’s all coming down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI say let’s speak it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elet’s fight it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elet’s right it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethere’s nothing to hold on to\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif it’s already gone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey left it to us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt sucks but it’s true.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s you and me baby.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLET ME IN\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuburbs, USA\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh God. I hate it when they act like that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sit down. Shut up. Stop embarrassing me. Please!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t worry!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t say this out loud. God no. Only in my head. These are my friends . . . supposedly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh God. Please stop. You are so utterly immature.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hate it when all those people look at me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNot like them. They’re always showing off. They’re not so sure of themselves when they’re alone. But in the posse—giddyup.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s hopeless. I can’t keep up. I’m always one Marc Jacobs, one Juicy Couture behind.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s Julie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hi hi.” Kiss kiss.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe hates my guts. Look at her cruising my once-something-now-so-over boot. I wish my feet were leaves. Blow away. I bought the brown leather riding boots like you said. Even though I’m allergic to horses and I didn’t have the money. Or I should say my mother didn’t. She’s a temp secretary and sometimes for weeks doesn’t even get called. I got hysterical in the shoe store. Started hyperventilating on the floor. My mother was so embarrassed that she paid.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then they changed right after that. Julie says riding boots are so pre-Britney. It’s all about purple UGGs. My mother will not even consider it. She doesn’t get it. She constantly jeopardizes my position. I mean she’s the reason I can’t keep up. I hate my mother and I hate these painful riding boots even more. To be honest I didn’t like them in the first place. Now I just look like a stupid girl without a pony.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh God, Julie just can’t stop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Cut it out, okay? I got the drop circle earrings like you said and the . . . Just stop checking me out.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t worry. I don’t say this out loud. Only in my head. They are my friends . . . supposedly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJulie now hates every bit of me. It happened yesterday. I completely blew it. I was accidentally nice to Wendy Apple in front of them. I forgot and hugged her right there. I lost myself. Wendy is so out. She’s got wild hair and her family lives in this ugly house and she has the dumbest laugh. She can’t help herself and she really doesn’t care. To be honest, I sort of like Wendy. Well, I admire her. She’s pretty sarcastic and draws these amazing pictures of slutty angels who are always falling from somewhere like outer space. But it’s familiar.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJulie says she’s not like us. Well, them. Julie saw me hug Wendy and did the big eyeball roll in front of all of the posse like I was demented or pathetic and then she turned her back on me. So did they. Like her backup dancers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo I got mad at Wendy. I shoved her a little and turned my head and told Wendy to stay away from me. She just looked at me, stared in shock like I was an alien. Then she started crying. That made me feel pretty shitty because I kind of like her a lot. But it made Julie like me again. Later Julie gave me the same kind of glitter lipstick that Beyoncé wore at the MTV music awards. Julie only used it for two weeks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut she is suspicious. So are the others. The word is out. It’s because of my clunky boots and my tits. Well, my lack of them. Julie is stacked and that’s why all the greatest guys are after her. She and Bree rule the posse. They don’t go anywhere apart. Even to pee. I saw them go into the toilet together. They were laughing real loud and we were all wondering if it was us they were laughing at. Wendy told me they had padded bras and went all the way. That’s why the guys like them so much. But Julie is genuinely pretty and very skinny. Her stomach is totally wholly abbed and flat like Gwen Stefani’s and she’s got that “I can’t help it if I’m perfect” smile. Bree’s hair is actually a little frizzy but she’s got perfect breasts and the coolest voice all deep like Miley and she doesn’t even have to fake it. She was born like that. Bree brought me into the posse ’cause I helped her with her history exam. She definitely regrets it now. I am the contaminator. Loser-girl virus. It spreads so fast, and once you get it you’re forever dead and ugly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh God. Look at them. They can’t even go to the vending machine without each other. Aren’t they happy?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI shouldn’t be telling you this. Breaking confidentiality. Totally illegal. We signed this posse agreement, really cool like\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAngelina Jolie’s personal assistants do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut sometimes I want to say:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Grow up. Be real. Stop pretending. Leave me alone.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t worry, I don’t say this out loud. Only in my head. These are my friends . . . supposedly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the reason they hate Wendy Apple so much is ’cause she was one of them once. Higher up than Bree. I mean, she could have been a Julie. What Wendy did was like a revolutionary. She just gave it up. I mean, she walked away. She said it was stupid. And she told everyone their secrets. Even the ugliest and fattest girls know about their padded bras. Julie and Bree tried to sue. But the posse agreement didn’t really hold up in high school court.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can’t believe it. Julie and Bree are all over Amber. That’s because of Amber’s older brother who Julie is suddenly dating. Amber made this happen, and so now Julie is just worshipping her. I mean, God, you would think Amber would be embarrassed. Two weeks ago Julie and Bree humiliated her in the locker room, did the posse circle in the shower when Amber was naked and we all laughed at her body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou know Wendy wrote me a note in third period and said she wasn’t crying for herself. She said she was crying for me ’cause I started out so nice and now I am so desperate. But I’m not funny like Wendy or talented. I am so tragically in the middle. Not one outstanding characteristic. I have nothing going for me . . . but them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWait a minute. There’s no more room at the table. Tiffany was supposed to get there first and save me a seat. But Tiffany is sitting in between Julie and Bree.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh God, look at my boots—?they are so stupid. And my hair, I hate it. My mother can’t even get work as a typist. I’m just a pathetic blob of middle girl.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Please don’t do this. Make room at the table. Tiffany, what about my seat? Don’t squeeze me out. Tiffany, stop pretending I’m not here. Oh look, look. Julie is braiding your hair. So now you’re Julie’s friend. Tiffany! Tiffany, turn around! I am here. I am not dead. What? What?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBree is motioning them to cut me off. They’re giving me the posse slam.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t do that. Bree, remember I helped you pass the exam? I gave you the answers and risked my ass. Listen. I don’t like these riding boots. I bought them for you. I know you were really generous to let me in because I am so utterly insignificant. I know I don’t have breasts. I’ll get the UGGs. I promise. I won’t be nice to people you hate. I’ll do whatever you want. Please. Please just let me sit down. Make room on the bench. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in!!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh God. Everyone is looking. I must be really screaming. It’s in the cafeteria and not just in my head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let me in. Make room on the bench.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Tantrum)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I can’t do it, Julie. I can’t keep up. I will never be invited. I won’t ever get the guy. My hair is stringy and ugly and my breasts don’t exist. I am a piece of shit shit shit. Let me in. Let me in.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(She collapses.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(She wakes up.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wake up at Wendy’s. There is incense burning that smells like fruit. Apples, I think. Right. Wendy Apple. I don’t remember how I got here. Wendy is sitting next to the bed, drawing a picture of me as an angel in transition. She says I have hit bottom. And that it feels terrible now. But I am lucky it has happened so young. She says she will be my friend if I can stop worrying about being popular. She says there are others who don’t fit in and I will like them better. She says there is another world and the door is open. She says she can help.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWendy laughs and it’s too loud. I want to be pretty. Wendy is incredibly kind. I want to be skinny. Wendy is on the outside. And I am no one. Wendy is by my bed and she is drawing my picture.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWHAT DON’T YOU LIKE ABOUT BEING A GIRL?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGirls can’t control anything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoys can do anything they want\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy brother is adored,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am ignored\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy boobs, people talking about my boobs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePeople assuming you can’t do something\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy boobs, it all changed with my boobs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlood, cramps, seven days\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePeople thinking you are weak\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA girl can get pregnant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou have to do your hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou have to remove your hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWash and iron clothes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore chance of being raped\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHave to take care of husbands and kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGirls can’t work even though\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey are educated.National bestseller; Author of The Vagina Monologues","brand":"Villard","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303246516453,"sku":"NP9780812970166","price":16.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780812970166.jpg?v=1767729566","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/i-am-an-emotional-creature-isbn-9780812970166","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}