There are a million other things I should be doing with my time...cleaning my house, riding my motorcycle, cooking my family dinner, talking to my Mother on the phone. But I can't. I just....can't. There are too many good books to read.
So, it has a lot of the things that I should like: a cook, a party boy, a vineyard, a warm family taking in a lonely guy. But somehow nothing is clicking. Though told in the first person by narrator Greg I am not connecting with him. Only 63 pages in and I've put the book down and walked away to do other stuff without a qualm. This is not the sign of a book I am engaged with.