I'm halfway through Gillian Flynn's mega-bestseller about a hotshot pop culture journalist who may or may not have murdered his wife, a privileged beauty who comes from money.
Yes, I believe it's a perfect summer read (I consumed most of it on my recent 5-city road trip). I really like the alternating points of view between Nick and Amy. If you ask me, I think they're both self-centered sycophants who clearly don't deserve each other.
No, I haven't watched the new trailer for David Fincher's anticipated adaptation starring Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike (I've already seen the teaser and hate that my imagination has been tainted by the visuals).
Yes, I have my theories on how it ends.
No, I'm not going to share them with you here.
Yes, I think it's a gripping read. There are only one or two literary phenomenons I attempt to tackle each year before the movie version comes out, and I can safely assume that this slick piece of suspense is light years beyond any of those Divergent books.