After a pre-bedtime failure last night due to heavy, droopy eyelids, a lunch time break failure, and a train ride home failure today, both due to falling short of time, I have finally just finished reading Lionel Shriver's, We Need To Talk About Kevin. Again, I'm not one for offering a review but after a semi-slow start, I thought this book was brilliant! I don't know whether it was due to my identifying with the narrator of the story, or whether it was my socially common yet 'kept quiet' and 'this feels wrong' fascination with the dark workings of the mind of a killer, but I was completely absorbed by this story. As I go about normal household chores this evening, I find myself haunted doggedly by the ending.
I'm dying to talk to someone about what I've read - fortunately, I've recently joined a book club and our first meeting, to discuss this very book, is on Tuesday night! A colleague of mine, also a member of the club, will be finishing his copy of the book this weekend. By far the hardest thing I'll have done this year to date will be to get through Monday and Tuesday at work without breaking the golden rule of the book club by jumping ahead of the pack to discuss the ending!