This is the second Lionel Shriver book I've read (Big Brother was the first), and I thought it was fantastic. It will not be the last. This is truly a minor quibble, because she's such an excellent writer and the plot and dialogue are pretty perfect, but there were some odd Britishisms in the book that I wish an editor had caught, like "mains" for wall outlets. Also, her habit of coming up with bizarre names, like Shepherd Knacker and a kid named Flicka, is just odd and distracting. Maybe this has meaning I haven't picked up on yet, but it kind of drives me a little crazy.