When I was recommended The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell, I wasn’t really expecting a whole lot. It’s been too long for me to remember the last time I read a work of fiction written after the turn of the millennium and what I had been hearing about books, at least popular ones for adults, wasn’t very encouraging. A trend towards literary-fiction, I was told. Authors writing fiction for the sake of the writing and not for the sake of telling a story. So with some reluctance and trepidation, I accepted a Facebook friend’s challenge of reading The Bone Clocks to see if it could indeed be one of the best things I’d read in a long time.
