I've finally got my reading groove back, I think. I decided some palate cleansing was in order, so right now, two of the three books I'm reading are not romance. Amazing, I know. Unfortunately for my state of mind, both of those books are psychological fiction. I'm more than halfway through one of them (Chain Mail: Addicted to You by Hiroshi Ishizaki) and I just started the other (The Unconsoled by Kazuo Ishiguro).
Chain Mail makes me feel like I'm vibrating in place right now - I really want to flip ahead in the book, to give myself some warning about what's going to happen next, and, at the same time, I don't want to know. The book is better than I expected, and I can't wait until I've finished it and can write a full post about it.
The Unconsoled is the first book by Ishiguro I've ever read. I almost picked up The Remains of the Day instead, but what I read on the back of The Unconsoled appealed to me more. Later on, I skimmed some customer reviews on Amazon, and I got a little worried that I'd picked the wrong book. So far, however, I'm enjoying it and its strangeness.
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