It’s taking me forever to finish the book I’m reading. It’s excellent, don’t get me wrong.
The story is interesting, and the characters are suitably complex.
It’s just that.
Well, there are so many words.
Lots and lots of words.
You or I might say, “The boy went to the bookshop”.
This book would say, “In his imagination and actuality, the young adolescent boy wandered not unexpectedly towards a store that only sells books”.
I can’t seem to get through it without huge reflective pauses to work out what in the world is going on.
The book? The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield.
I hope to review it for you soon.