When you get to the store, you go straight to the New Fiction section, determined to set trends among your friends (and possibly come up with your next book club pick so that Evan will shut up about trading you picks because you “don’t seem to have a lot of conviction” about your selections. But then, on a small table right next to all those freshly pressed novels is a pile of Gone Girls. You know that everybody’s been talking about it and you’re kind of embarrassed because you don’t really even know what it’s about. On the one hand, if you pick it up, you’re admitting to the whole store (and all the harassed-looking Master’s candidates working behind the counter) that you’re woefully behind the times. This is the sort of thing you take personally, what with your reputation among family as “the weird one, you know, with all the books.” On the other hand, you really do want to read it.