Gone Girl: Maybe I should have read a book about a puppy tea party

This is a hard one for me to write about just now, due to personal things in my personal life. I should also note that my copy of the book is at the bottom of a box right now, so I shan't be providing you any excerpts. But you don't need details anyway. In fact, a hex on details . . . because the less you know the better with this one.

But let's first address the depressed elephant in the room---sans details, of course. Some of you may have noticed that I've been sad on Twitter lately, which is the equivalent of standing in a crowd of cheerful, clever people and sighing dramatically until someone offers you a cookie and politely asks you to run along and refill the chip bowl. So I'm sorry about all that dramatic sighing. Also, I can't promise there won't be more. Also, we're out of barbecue chips.

But about Gone Girl. As I'm sure you've gathered, it's a cheerful romp through the wondrous institution of marriage. In a nutshell.

So Nick and Amy are the marrieds, and they've been having run-of-the-mill married-people trouble following a few unpleasant life changes (i.e., losing their jobs, moving from a big city to a small town, dealing with illness and death in the family, and so on and so forth). But then Amy goes MISSING. And an ottoman has been overturned, suggesting FOUL PLAY.

But that's clearly not the end of the story. And said story unfolds within a narrative that switches back and forth between Nick's and Amy's perspectives, showing just how very little two people can know about each other when they think they know everything about each other. It's every bit as delicious as everyone says . . . even though I can't look at the cover without sighing dramatically.

Is it next year yet?