The First Bad Man by Miranda July
First of all–weird. So, so weird. That’s not inherently bad, and there’s something intriguing about articulating the moments of strangeness we all have. But I like it better as a short story. The weird, slightly crazy, lonely middle aged woman who develops an obsession with some sexual/romantic angle–it’s like Claire Messud‘s The Woman Upstairs in that way–I didn’t much like that one either. I have to be clear–it’s not that I don’t like books by or about women. It’s this particular brand of it.