This was the first lesbian book I read, back when I was thirteen or so and had realized I was gay recently; I remember that was when I put Patience and Sarah on my reading list, where it stayed for the next ten years. (I finally found and read it last month.)

I haven't reread this one for a while but I keep meaning to; I remember liking it very much, but finding Liz's inability to write to Annie completely inexplicable as a teenager. It makes more sense to me now.