And here's what we got:
I don’t know what it is with me and reading books about mentally-challenged, slow, or otherwise afflicted people. It’s not like I’ve got a fetish or anything; I think maybe I’ve got Underdog Syndrome. In any case Lottery, by Patricia Wood, isn’t about a mentally-challenged person; Lottery is about Perry L. Crandall. He’s not retarded; he’s got an IQ of 76, and 76 is higher than 75 – The IQ bar for ‘reatrded’.
As an aside, I have noticed something about myself: If a book writes about someone dying that is in any way dear to the protagonist, I will tear up. I can’t help it. The effect is almost immediate, and the Man in me shakes his head in disgust. This happens more often than it really should, and Lottery did it to me as well. I won’t divulge any more about it, because I’m not really in the habit of spoiling books.