Binge read Station Eleven over the past 3 days.

Usually when I wake up the next morning after finishing a good book I’m still thinking about it – this morning I wasn’t thinking about it. The story was entertaining, but I don’t think the characters were very developed – there was nothing intriguing about them – their only purpose was to move the story arc along. It’s a post-apocalyptic (pandemic) story that weaves between time just before the incident to about 25 years afterwards. Comparing it to other books in the genre – The Road (McCarthy) was way more terrifying.

Moving onto some more literary fiction, Murakami’s The Wind Up Bird Chronicle. I have high hopes. We’ll see.

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