I finished up Earnest Cline's
Ready Player One and loved
every bit of it. It's probably not going to win any literary awards—and I'm not going to say he was a master of characterization and complex plotting. But he made me laugh every-other sentence, and THAT'S an accomplishment in itself. It very well could only have a niche market (those in their 40's), but it doesn't limit itself completely to '80s pop culture (though that IS quite dominant). There's also the late '70s and early '90s.
Just a funny, entertaining blast from MY past. Thank you Mr. Cline!
Then after about seven chapters' worth of John le Carré's relatively short
Our Kind of Traitor, I've decided to pulled the plug. I frankly have no clue what's going on. There seems to be two main POV's, but I'm never quite sure which one I'm in... sometimes it even appears to be both at once. There also seems to be two different time-frames that I can't, for the life of me, keep straight. Usually I can adjust to most authors' styles and quirks, but I just can't make heads or tails of what le Carré is trying to
say. I'm re-reading about every-other paragraph trying to make sense of things. And while it certainly
seems to be English... I'll be damned if I can make any sense out of it. I seem to recall a similar reaction to
The Tailor of Panama many moons ago.
I'm leaning towards William Gibson's
Zero History next.