Although I'm only running a low fever and don't have much congestion, I've had a really obnoxious headache for the past two days-- I couldn't really sleep last night so I finished Catherine Chidgey's new psychological thriller Pet . . . on my Kindle, of course, with the font laughably enormous so that my head didn't hurt too much while I read (I was sleeping in Ian's bed, so not to bother and/or infect my wife . . . Lola took turns sleeping next to me and sleeping next to my wife in the master bedroom, very cute) and I really enjoyed this book: Chidgey is a native Kiwi and this book is set at a Catholic school in a Wellington suburb in the 1980s-- but despite the way-down-under locale and the age of the girls -- 12 -- these tweens are just as cliquey and judgemental as the mean crew from North Shore High School . . . and things get far darker than that film as the novel proceeds into weird idolatry, dementia, the mutability of memory, and outright betrayal . . . the plot is wrapped up a little too patently, but I give it nine invisible ink pens out of ten . . . now I'm working my way through Carl Hiaasen's Tourist Season-- if my headache continues to keep me from sleeping, I might finish that tonight.
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