Well That Was Dreadful

I couldn't get through The Deep Range. I tried, I gave it over sixty pages but I kept feeling intellectually violated.

I can enjoy light reading, but not something that tries so hard to be serious. Had The Deep Range been written by a an undergrad English major, I might find the striving amusing and let it go-but this guy got paid to write that rubbish. Paid. Actual money. Bah.


I'm about halfway through Lunar Landscapes (John Hawkes) which is sort of like rinsing your eyes out with Lysol after trying to read The Deep Range. It hurts, but it is good for me, in a cleansing sort of way. I suspect John Hawkes loathed people-ever read Death Sleep and the Traveler?

I'll be back with a recipe eventually.