Last night, when I was sitting on the floor, staring dejectedly at Dave-the-TiVo-box, I happened to be right on eye-level with The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay on the bookshelf. I pulled it down to read while I was waiting on the tech service people to hang up on me, and then I took it upstairs with me, mostly because it was in my hand, when I gave up. And, now, more commas: ,,,.
So right now, instead of studying or doing anything productive, I’ve been reading the last chapter and it’s making me cry like a little child. Damn you, Michael Chabon! I need to get a copy of The Final Solution:A Story of Detection, stat. It’s available at the library, but I have high hopes of receiving it for Christmas. Though I may stop in at Watson this afternoon to pick up Werewolves in their youth.