When it comes to books, I am always honest about what I thought about them and because of this trait I tend to only read books that I know without a doubt I will enjoy. I had thought this was one of those books and I was wrong. I found it dry and lacking until almost the very end, but by then I was so disenchanted I just wanted to get it over with. It's like going on a date with someone and the chemistry is tangible, palpable even, and then the sex is so completely lackluster you feel like you just completely wasted the last 3 hours you spent with the person. What really gets me is that this plot had so much potential, it could have been a real page-turner that addicts you so completely you almost don't want it to end. Instead this turned out to be more akin to some novels that many I'm-only-her-for-a-paycheck English teachers like to assign their students. It's rare that I don't like a book, even those outside of my preferred genre. I must say though that I won't let this particular book bias any other works I may have the chance to read by Chris Crutcher. I plan on reading at least one of his other pieces, preferably a VERY highly acclaimed one; and I hope that in that novel I will be able to redeem my thus far not so desirable opinion of this author.