Oh, I fell hard for you from the very moment I cracked open your spine. Your story, about a collective of young people who work at a Chicago advertising agency during a time when the country was facing tough economic times. You have such a way with words, with storytelling, that's unique, modern, and terribly engrossing. Sometimes, you're sentences were so lovely, my heart ached a little in turn.
Sometimes, because your story was so much like events in my own life, I could recognize myself in your characters -- the close-knit working quarters, the ambitious feeling of being young, in your first or second real job, and having routines. I'd imagine it's hard to write a convincing novel about something as mundane as work, but you manage to make it feel relevant, current and interesting. I think, in a way, anyone who works in an office environment can relate to the trials and tribulations of being "walked Spanish down the hall." Of the resentment and anger you feel, of the pressure to move on maybe before you're ready, of the way life sometimes forces you in a direction you never imagined.
Your story rolls along, and you feel like you're sitting on the dock on a hot summer's day, being lulled by words instead of waves. Even when you are writing scenes, stories, thoughts that have been said so many ways before, your story still feels original. Maybe it's your voice. Your use of "we" throughout. Maybe it's how you never give in to the apparent. How you continuously surprise us with your narrative -- sure you deal with topics that can be construed as "well trodden territory" (breast cancer; angry, belligerent ex-employees pulling a Michael Douglas) -- but your book never takes the easy way out, you never write what's expected.