Just over three hundred pages of a novelist realizing his story contained several stories, or that his several stories were all the same. Written as though "fragmented" and "kaleidoscopic" are the same thing, with characters who are all dragged through the events of their stories by the actions of others, with no climax and bloody little resolution. Shocking how the "brilliant" literary fiction of fifteen years ago completely fails to hold up--almost as though "literary" were just a lie, not even a genre like all the others.
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The Shadow Year by Jeffrey Ford
I read this last night but am only getting around to posting it this afternoon; I have no excuses or jokes to make about that, oops. This ...
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I dunno. On the one hand there are some interesting ideas in this novel, and Cantero's prose sparkles with wit and joy. On the other h...
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So, this was a book that I almost stopped reading a couple-three times. It's not *bad*, exactly, but it's a weird dissonant tonal ...
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This is an actual Horror novel. Not a big shock, reading the blurbs, but the jacket text makes it seem vaguely Mystery/Technothriller-ish, a...

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