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Much more of a study of wounded, toxic masculinity than the movie is, although the movie does have some elements of that. Scott Carey's malady turns him into the very worst version of himself, and he lashes out constantly at everyone around him -- especially his wife -- for most of the book. This is sometimes hard to take, but it's also Matheson's point. The inexorable narrative is told in a unique structure, where the end of one intertwined portion of the tale ends where the rest of the book begins. That second story, which takes place entirely in the cellar, is hurt by a failure of storytelling. One thing about 20th-century books I don't miss is long, drawn-out descriptive passages that DON'T adequately build a picture for the reader of what a landscape looks like and where things are placed relative to one another. This doesn't seem to happen as much these days, maybe because publishers aren't as resistant to printing maps. This book REALLY needs a map of Scott Carey's basement. Still a fun ride.

This was a good book to start the year with. It intersects with Jaron Lanier's criticisms of social media while also recognizing that complete disconnection is impractical, at best, for most of us. Her ideas for taking more control of your own attention, bringing it closer to home, and deepening it, are good and perhaps a good practice to enact for the new year.