Rounded up from 2.5 stars. This reads like a transcription, which I find compelling only because it is an unusual way to write a novel. I have always wanted to find a piece of fiction that truly mimics all of the stutters and missteps and nonverbal cues we make when navigating conversations. However, this missed for me. I think she makes important points about the mercurial qualities of selfhood and relationships, and she writes them well, but the narrator doesn’t have much of an identity or even a personality. I felt Popkey revealed depth all of the characters—and no character exists beyond a chapter or two, really—EXCEPT in her narrator, and that was frustrating. ( )

I did not finish this book. Not because of bad writing, not because there aren't stories to tell, but because the stories weren't holding my interest, were depressing, and I just didn't want to read them anymore. It isn't a long book, I probably would've forced myself to finish (I was over halfway through) in younger days, but I am too old to read something that I don't want to. ( )

I don’t like panning books as I think authors pour what they have and sometimes it just doesn’t connect with a certain reader. I read as many as I could and then realized I wasn’t the audience for this slim book. The first one on rape fantasy should have been the indicator, but I pressed on. Sadly, not for me. ( )

Pretentious drivel. DNF at page 68. I thought about hate reading the whole thing, but then I came to my senses. Maybe I'm just a boomer trapped in a millennial's body, but if this type of novel is the best my generation has to offer, then we are in SERIOUS trouble.

Some of these chapters would make excellent short stories.
Not really sure what to make of this book except I think I need someone smarter than me to explain it to me. I think she's a great writer but I think this book was hard to get into and I found it hard to identify with many of the characters. ( )