I am about half-way through David Mitchell's "number9dream". I am convinced now that Mitchell is the real thing. I am also finding that it is a lot easier to follow the threads with this book than with "Ghostwritten" (which might simply mean I am missing most of them). Last night I cringed my way through a thorougly nasty chapter involving a turf war between Japanese mobsters. Special mention must go to a particularly wicked few pages set in a private bowling alley. I'll never look at the "pins" in the same way again (hint: the title of this entry, ignoring the variant spelling, is not entirely arbitrary).
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