I'm editing and editing a third draft of a novel, and it's increasingly feeling like I'm polishing fixtures on the Titanic. Let's digress.
I once met a woman who was--I swear I'm not making this up--a real, live bounty hunter. She said she read a book a day. A whole book, every day, and I absolutely believed her. Yet when we started listing favorite books, we could not find one in common. The world of books is that big. Also, it was a problem of genre. We just seemed to like different things.
All to say, a few weeks ago I read a book I loved so much it could have been written specifically to my taste, and you might not like it at all.
THE BURIED GIANT by Kazuo Ishiguro*****
A forgetfulness-inducing mist shrouds post-Arthurian Britain. The story follows an elderly couple, Axl and Beatrice, who set out to find their son, whom they can only dimly remember. They navigate their way in a world where ogres, sprites, strange wolves, and even dragons exist, but it’s the unpredictable people they encounter who are the most dangerous. I know it's early to call it, but I loved this book so much, I expect it will be my favorite book of the year.