I seldom read novels; in fact, I almost never read novels. I am too easily disappointed and have found myself underwhelmed by some of the most celebrated titles like Melville‘s “The Moby Dick,” Kurt Vonnegut‘s “Cat’s Cradle,” and even Gabriel Garcia Márquez‘s “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” I hated F. Scott Fitzgerald‘s “The Great Gatsby.” It’s not that any of those novels are bad – it’s just that they’d leave me feeling a bit empty, like I just spent a few hours of my life reading something that didn’t do much in terms of teaching me anything important; they didn’t expand my horizons.