Yesterday: In the time it took me to microwave some eggplant parm at work I found this book on the lending shelf and got adequately absorbed. A light, short story read is about where my head is this week and while it’s aptly crafted and hits all the emotive high notes, maybe I’m just in the dark- what exactly is Pulitzer criteria? One of the blurbs declares the prose so translucent “you almost forget that you’re reading.” Is this a compliment? Is this the goal? Has the very act of reading become a pill we have to crush and mask in applesauce?