I am reading Wally Lamb's We are Water. I've been reading it and reading it and reading it. Despite the fact that his other two novels (She's Come Undone and I Know This Much Is True) I couldn't put down, this one is getting me down. Long and tedious.
I keep having a feeling it's going somewhere, but if it doesn't get there soon, I will go on to something else.
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It's harder to hate close up.
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