Dear Mr. Collings,
Your book The Slab is torturing me. See, when I start to read a well-written book, which yours is, a tiny bit of me gets trapped in that book's world until I finish it. If it's a fun world, reading the book can be an exhilarating race, a leisurely stroll, a mellow basking, depending on the book. If it's a horrible world, reading the book is more like an exorcism. (That's why I read "The Road," in one sitting. I had to get the heck out of there.) Guess which of the two types your world is.
Unfortunately, it was my husband who bought your book at CONduit 2011, so when he suggested that we read it together, I had no choice but to agree. And it's slow! We can read one, maybe two, chapters a night before bed (yes, before bed, so thanks for that), and it's going to take me forever to finish the book, during which time a small part of me will be trapped in 1066 Oleander. I am very tempted to lie to my husband and finish the book without him, but I have a feeling the house would frown on marital deceit.
Mr. Collings, what are you doing to me?
PS: We just finished the scene with Brady and Kyle, and now I hate you even more.