Margaux with an X -- Ron Koertge

My major issue with Ron Koertge. (And more, obviously).

I think that his books feel like he's writing an Honors Thesis for a Creative Writing program.

I don't even know exactly why. They just do. Maybe it's because, somehow, the words seem forced—I feel aware of his writing process, rather than completely drawn into his stories. The writing seems aware of itself. Not in a Terry Pratchett look-at-how-clever-I-am way. Maybe more of a I'm-trying-really-hard way. And that's distracting. I usually like his books well enough, but not so much that I jump around and say things like, "OOOOO. This is the BEST BOOK EVER!!"

(Anyone who knows me in real life can attest to the fact that I do do that. Often).

I will say, however, that I really did like Margaux with an X. I liked it enough that as Josh and I were driving around yesterday, I kept picking it up off of the dashboard and reading it. (This lead to three things: Josh saying, "Wow, I'm sure glad that we're spending this quality time together", and other such snarky things, me getting carsick multiple times, and Josh laughing at me for making myself carsick over and over again).

Anyway. It was good. But not great.