My friend and collegue Dan brought this glowing review of Ian McEwan’s latest novel Solar to my attention last month. Charlie Jane Anders boldly states in the review:

If Ian McEwan’s Solar isn’t on the Hugo ballot next year, it’ll be a miscarriage of justice. The two-time Booker Prize winner does something few literary darlings have done before: treat science with respect, as central to the story.

That’s all it took.

Wait. Who am I fooling? Those opening sentences are powerful praise. The full review that follows goes into considerable analysis and detail. But it didn’t matter to me at that point. I wanted to read this book right then. Two sentences were all it took.

I went looking for it right away. In the several subsequent trips I’ve made to bookstores, I seem to have run into an odd dimension of bad luck. I arrive just shortly after the last copy has left the shelf. Yes, I know there are stores online where they are happy to sell you books and deliver them to your door. I use those too. I happen to really enjoy bookstores. Today I broke out of the Last One Just Left Dimension and was able pick up a copy of Solar for myself. The fact that I’d finished my last novel last night and was busy trying to decide what to read next added a bonus helping of serendipity.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to keep this one short and go read my new book.

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