Black Bag by Luke Kennard

I simply could not with this book.

It has been a long time since I set a book aside unfinished, but this truly met the criteria.

The opening conceit that we simply would never hang out with our favorite narrators felt like a gloss for the fact that the narrator is whiny and self-absorbed. 

I understand that it’s supposed to be a commentary on the modern-day struggle of masculinity, but the first few chapters seemed more an apology for the idea of modern-day masculinity narratives and how they no longer were attainable, and please. Miss me with that.

The Hum and the Shiver By Alex Bledsoe

This book has a wonderful premise, and then the writing by Bledsoe is just so sophomorically bad that it is painful.