A book with so many plots it truly had none at all: a boy in love with a girl, the same girl in love with another boy, another girl in love with that boy, a mother with a murderer for a son, the filming of the movie Psycho. Each story is told in bits and pieces so the reader is left to piece together the chronology and the actual happenings. It's interesting, and lyrical, but aggravating because so much is imagined by these flat characters that it's hard to know what's real. Munoz spent so much time saying what didn't matter that in the end I felt like nothing did.