Trove

Reading this book is like being waterboarded with truffle oil.

Reading this book is like seeing the ripples widen after a stone of great consequence has been cast into the waters of history.

Reading this book is like watching a bunch of self-absorbed narcissists trying to talk over each other about who the biggest drama queen of them all is.

Reading this book is like receiving a shamanic healing limpia over and over again.

Reading this book is like sitting down to a big round table full of the best food you ever put in your mouth.

Reading this book is like opening a folding table after closing a door.

Reading this book is like switching from a fuzzy, black and white television screen to a full color, HD portrayal of Jesus.

Reading this book is like eating good bonefish.

Reading this book is like listening to a personal CD, a compilation of songs (singing drives away sorrow, as they say in Spain), with music by the Ronettes.

Reading this book is like sipping hot cider in front of a crackling potbellied stove.

Reading this book is like watching a three-dimensional person gradually unfurl from a mouldy seed, almost the personal equivalent of the Big Bang.

Reading this book is like reading all 320 books that Dayna has read.

Reading this book is like witnessing a debate with the resolution that reads: Be it resolved, that men are descendants of monkeys.

Reading this book is like meeting each animal and getting the chance to ask them your most pressing questions.

Reading this book is like shaving with a cheese grater.

Reading this book is like traveling to an older culture and going to a village where women are not wearing miniskirts, for example.