1. Ree Dolly is the second most kick-ass young female character I have encountered in fiction this year. Katniss from The Hunger Games is the first. Both characters hail from coal mining country in West Virginia and environs. Coincidence? Or does Appalachia just breed extra-awesome women these days?

2. Ree Dolly's people were once Travelers. That's with a capital T, as in the people known also as Tinkers or as Gypsies. You know; from the movie "Snatch." They settled in the Ozarks a few generations before Ree was born, and now they make meth.

2A. Is this, like, common? I know virtually nothing about Appalachia, beyond the ugly stereotypes.

2B. This must conspire to make the people of Winter's Bone even more insular and suspicious of outsiders than normal. And seriously, can you imagine? An unusually poor sub-set of Appalachians? WOW.

3. Obviously I liked the sociology of Winter's Bone as much as I liked the story, the writing, and the characters. But I liked the story, the writing, and the characters quite a lot. Daniel Woodrell has a real talent for painting a scene, whether it's a deserted frozen lake or a dimly lit living room stale with ancient cigarette smoke.

4. It's pretty terrible that Ree's people make meth. Meth is a real scourge of our times. It destroys lives. There are no casual meth users, the way there are casual alcohol drinkers or pot smokers. But in so far as the Dollys live in preposterously impoverished conditions, what else are they supposed to do?

5. The book doesn't mention food stamps or welfare. My guess is that the Dollys are too proud to go on government assistance, or too itinerant, or too mistrustful of the government, or all three. But my heart broke when Ree went grocery shopping with her friend Gail, and pushed aside the idea of buying a green plastic can of powdered parmesan cheese because if her young brothers tried it, they would want it all the time, and it was too extravagant to buy on a regular basis.

6. That scene was an excellent example of the thoughtful, acutely-observed writing that Woodrell is able to pull off. It's tricky to write about people who are this poor without coming off like a work of poverty tourism.

7. I love the way the book downplays Ree's relationship with Gail. This, too, would have been a titillating sideshow exhibit in the hands of a lesser writer. Or Ree would have been characterized as a "dyke." But Woodrell makes it clear that it isn't so much that Ree prefers women, as it is that Gail is the only person - male or female - that Ree has ever felt safe enough to be vulnerable with.

8. I count at least three betrayals that Ree experiences in the course of the book. The poor thing deserves better. Maybe in the sequel she can, I don't know, get a job at Google and move to Palo Alto and drive a Prius to work every day.

9. I find it difficult to believe that people live like this, in the year 2011, in what is ostensibly a developed nation, but there you are.