Reading
Oh, William by Elizabeth Strout made my head hurt. I think it’s the character, Lucy Barton, who is telling the story that makes me want to step in front of a moving train. It was a quick read though.
So there’s that.
I read it in less than a week, after completing Olive Kitteridge, and waiting for Olive Again. But it still left me shaking my head.
On a side note, Lisa really liked it. I can’t imagine why, but she says she like Strout’s writing style. I think the author’s voice in Oh, William was very different from that in Olive Kitteridge, too conversational, full of run-on sentences and rambling thoughts. Too distracting for me to work up the energy to give a shit about the weird-ass relationship between Lucy and Oh William.