It started promising but somewhere towards the middle I lost my appetite and I started reading other stuff instead. It is just not fair to me or the book to prolong this situation. I really hope to get back to it one day, because I really love N.'s prose and I feel that somehow I'm going to like this book. Someday. But now I'm dead tired and the last thing on my mind is reading. And if I do read smth soon (which I suspect I will, thank God for the weekends!) it must be light and fun.
'I am sentimental,' she said. 'I could dissect a koala but not its baby. I like the words damozel, eglantine, elegant. I love when you kiss my elongated white hand.'