Laziest Book Review Ever.

Reading Haruki Murakami is, for me, a lot like watching a David Lynch film: I'm never really sure what's going on, and I spend most of it asking what the hell is happening, but I sure enjoy it.

Kafka on the Shore is no exception. It's beautiful, mysterious, and probably a very good metaphor for something, but I don't know what that is. Nonetheless, it's a good read. Get after it.

Excuses.

The problem with making a resolution to review every book you read in 2011 is that there is always the distinct possibility your sister will announce that she's getting married in February and then ask you to hand-make the invitations, and then your computer will just up and die (albeit not without warning), thereby painfully limiting your access to the internet.

Or maybe that's just what happened to me...

Anyway, I WILL REVIEW THE BOOKS I'VE READ. I swear. It's just going to happen on a different timeline than I had originally planned.