One of you should have warned me. You have ONE JOB internet, and that's to spoil all things whether it's movie endings or books or the news. Nobody told me Margaret Atwood books have morphed as she's grown as a writer into tomes full of generations of people. I don't need a generation. I just want one person. I don't need letters or news clippings or epigraphs. Just give me a story.

I had borrowed Alias, Grace from the library on my iPad and thus didn't realize this book was a million pages long. I was quite satisfied with the ending at the end of page 342 but that was just the first in a long line of subsequent endings. It's like the Spielberg movie of books; it ends but keeps on going. Now I'm reading Blind Assassin. Cool title! Not enough Blind Assassins. Too many people talking about food they ate in the Twenties. It's not that these books are bad, they aren't, they're just sooooo long and I'm not sure that all the padding adds anything to the story. You can burn me for a witch but I don't care. Songs shouldn't be more than 4 minutes, movies shouldn't ever be longer than two and a half hours, and books, unless they were written by dead Russians or Mervyn Peake, shouldn't be more than 450 pages, tops. MAX.