DNF at 199 Pages 
 I'll keep this short, because--for me, at least--there's not much to say. 
 There's a lot of people out there who like this book. On some level, I can even understand why. The author's voice isn't bad--a little melancholy, maybe, but that's fitting. 
 What kills me is the setting. The progression of events leading to the Collapse defies sense. There is no international effort, no attempt at an effective response, no quarantines put in place, no sightings of the National Guard (or Canada's equivalent). 
 No. This, my friends, is apparently a story about a human race that decided to curl up and die. 
 Also, a story about humans who made no effort to rebuild when their physical infrastructure was relatively intact. 
 And I just can't handle that level of fatalism. 
 I don't like abandoning books; I've run into far too many books that redeem themselves in later pages to make a habit of it. But there's a line. 
 And I don't care enough about this setting or these characters to slog through the rest of this. 
 To those who enjoyed Station Eleven, good for you. I won't be joining your ranks.