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I am not entirely certain as to why I periodically pick up a book of this kind. On one hand, I am extremely critical in my analysis, yet on the other, I secretly relish the more indulgent aspects of it. It's almost like a plant-based vegan who indulges in junk food and then proceeds to complain about it. Based on that, I really have no legitimate right to complain. And tonight, during my break, I will return to my studies of Biochemistry.
This book can be likened to Twinkies for the soul. You can interpret that however you wish.
I have noticed that I don't particularly enjoy it when authors create a novel that evolves into a series and all the characters get married, have kids, grandkids, and a detailed backstory. All the names of everyone's children just become a jumble in my mind. It might be a better approach to do what they do in The Umbrella School and simply number the children.
"Number five, your breakfast is getting cold. Get in here and eat your French toast." How absurd. No one prepares French toast for their kids' breakfast anymore, except perhaps in novels. And not in this particular novel. I was merely speaking hypothetically.
So there you have it.
Number your children.
Let them prepare their own breakfasts.
Don't read novels that are part of a series if the characters start having children.
Occasionally, treat yourself to a visit to a really nice restaurant, like one in downtown Seattle, and order French toast for breakfast without any kids in tow.
Just to clarify, the novel is set in Indiana and L.A., and there is no French toast to be found anywhere within its pages.
This book can be likened to Twinkies for the soul. You can interpret that however you wish.
I have noticed that I don't particularly enjoy it when authors create a novel that evolves into a series and all the characters get married, have kids, grandkids, and a detailed backstory. All the names of everyone's children just become a jumble in my mind. It might be a better approach to do what they do in The Umbrella School and simply number the children.
"Number five, your breakfast is getting cold. Get in here and eat your French toast." How absurd. No one prepares French toast for their kids' breakfast anymore, except perhaps in novels. And not in this particular novel. I was merely speaking hypothetically.
So there you have it.
Number your children.
Let them prepare their own breakfasts.
Don't read novels that are part of a series if the characters start having children.
Occasionally, treat yourself to a visit to a really nice restaurant, like one in downtown Seattle, and order French toast for breakfast without any kids in tow.
Just to clarify, the novel is set in Indiana and L.A., and there is no French toast to be found anywhere within its pages.