“The morning was a fish in a net, glistening and wriggling at the dead black border of her consciousness, but she’d never caught fish in a net or on a hook either, so she really couldn’t really say if or how or why.” I read this years ago, and I more or less liked it, but I don’t think I understood it much. Or rather, it’s a perfectly understandable novel, but maybe you need some of the cynicism and realism of your 30s to seep […]
TC Boyle (1)
Drop City by TC Boyle














