23.01.13
I say I prefer literary fiction but the Booker shortlist remains unread on my shelves while I devour the chicklit I've won on Twitter. This was an uncorrected proof of a novel that hasn't yet been published so for once I'm at the cutting edge. The novel itself, not so much. The prose style is accomplished but the plot and characters a little confusing and inconsistent - for example, why does the main character not realise what's clear to the reader from the start? But she did have the same birthday as me, which illogically inclined me more favourably towards her, despite her 1950s upper class dialogue not quite ringing true. Good enough escapism.
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