I started The Weekend Man by Richard B. Wright before I went to camp over the weekend. I've had it for quite awhile, having purchased it from the used book sale at work (the library) a few years ago. Reading the back, the book appealed to me; it is about a guy, Wes Wakeham, who is trying to figure out what he wants from life. I thought that that pretty much describes me at the moment, so I would give it a shot.
Well, I had to brute force my way through this book. The only reason I kept reading was that I wanted to see how it ended. It turns out that I really didn't care. The book buries you under mounds and mounds of description. There was barely any dialogue; what was present felt like it was thrown in because the author had to. The back of the book describes Wes as"a decent man with an ironic sense of humour." I found that I truly didn't care about or for him. He might be decent to those around him, but he generally wasn't very charitable to those around him in his own thoughts. (And of course, the reader gets to hear all about Wes Wakeham's thoughts on everything).
Save your money. Save your time. Don't bother with this one.