Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel A finalist for the 2014 National Book Award, this audacious, darkly glittering novel
It glitters like a dark star, leaving the reader enchanted, authentically moved, and somehow longing for the gallant, threadbare humanity of a ruined world. This slender book feels immense -- though sparely told, it never shrugs off the import it claims.
Sometimes going stag is the way to go.
The book is a series of little bits of overlapping color that finally create a full picture.
After an efficient strain of the flu wipes out civilization in a handful of days (fevers, air travel, overcrowded hospitals
I know what you are thinking, "Another post-apocalyptic novel? Please, no." And usually, I'm with you. I have dystopian future fatigue, too.