There are few things that I dislike more than settling down to a novel with promising beginnings only to find the plot unravel, break apart into illogical splinters and then be spackled together and tied into an abrupt bow in time for the foregone conclusion.
Of course it may be more realistic since life often splinters into pieces of absurdity. If only everything really did tie neatly in the end.
In other news I am spending Christmas with SB's second favorite exgirlfriend and her husband who shares a same first and middle name with SB. And the ex thinks that I am a ringer for her. Conclusions?
Comments