The Truth about the Harry Quebert Affair, despite the French literary awards it has received and its perch at the top of the European bestseller list, is just an airport paperback. It is true that it is a page-turner, but there is nothing convincing about the twists and turns of its plot. It is repetitious, filled with cardboard characters and, at the end of the day, has nothing important or insightful to say.
This is not the first time I have had a blog. With my previous attempts, the task inevitably became a chore to me after a few posts. I guess I took it all too seriously.
This time around, I will post when I can, write whatever I feel like writing and that’s about it. There is no established intent. Whatever pleases me, is it. I will, however, try not to bore.