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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Episode Thirteen by Craig DiLouie
This is labeled as an epistolary novel, but that's not entirely right. There are entries that could not possibly have been written, fr...
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I read this book like thirty years ago (ack!) when I was in college, and I remembered liking it, and when my wife picked it as a classic-i...
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The cover text calls this something like "one of the most important novels" blah blah blah. It's not a novel, it's a disc...
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Not a novel, which ... well ... some of the events described in the book would stretch credulity in fiction. It's a book about the lie...
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