I picked up Bullet Train by Kotao Isaka intent on experiencing a taut, quickly paced page turner. Instead, I cursed the size of the font, gave the book to my wife, and cursed this book was almost exclusively intended for fighter pilots. However, she could easily read Bullet Train. Apparently, I just needed to see the eye doctor, who probably has eyesight like a falcon who’s out for prey. Actually, I knew that I needed to get the prescription updated, but the summertime malaise had started to take root. My new plastic optics were firmly in place and Bullet Train was firmly on my chest, as a lay down after a muggy summer’s day.
Please let the movie be as great as this book was….