The halcyon days of The Baby-Sitters Club existed in a time before the Internet, smartphones or texting. Communication was pure… or as pure as mildly hormonal 13-year-old girls could muster.
Ann M. Martin's (somewhat ghostwritten) middle-grade book series debuted in 1986 and ceased printing in 2000, encompassing fourteen glorious years of pastel sisterhood, Gen X entrepreneurship and blissful Tri-State suburbia.
And, most importantly to me, the core years of my childhood, during which I devoured as many of these books as I could get my hands on at my elementary school library.
The ideal 1997 Friday night for me: ABC's TGIF programming block, an hour of lurid journalism with 20/20 and a fresh BSC novel read under the covers with a Playskool.
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