I’ve been trying to recapture the magic of Claire North’s second novel, Touch, for three books now. Harry August was like Diet Touch, The Sudden Appearance of Hope was a bit boring, and The End of the Day dragged so much I didn’t finish it. “Ah well,” I said to myself, “so Claire North is a one-hit wonder for me. SO BE IT.” And then just when I thought I’d gotten out, she lured me back in with 84K, a dystopian novel in experimental-but-not-too prose about a man who leaves his comfortable life behind in favor of burning down the…
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So here we are at the end of 2015. I had this idea that maybe in 2016 I’ll get really good about writing down all the super-excellent things that happen to me that year, and that way I won’t be struggling to think of them when the end of the year rolls around. My best thing of 2015 (brace yourself for a shock) was the musical Hamilton. Not a full week after I whined to my friends that I feared there would never be another musical that made me feel the way Wicked and Rent made me feel, and maybe…
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