Dear Haruki, 
 About 81% through 1Q84, I suddenly went from deeply engrossed to utterly fed up. 
 You had a cracking concept, strong characters and a layered, well thought out plot. But damn you if you didn't spurn the logical path and give me climax and anticipation that peaked at what seemed like cerebral-malaria induced fever pitch levels only to just.. go limp on me. 
 You dropped the main plot elements that so engrossed me and left them severed and hanging like broken vines over a rushing river. I know anticlimax and inscrutability is your thing but this time it just wasn't working. You forgot all the mystery you'd been stringing me along with and took this thousand page tome to an ending befitting an especially corny Nicholas Sparks novel (not that I've ever read any, you realize i'm just adopting an accepted stereotype). 
 But tsk tsk. I am disappoint, Haruki. Very disappoint. Even worse Haruki, I feel cheated. You cheated me. 
 I buried my nose in this book through family functions, working lunches and what should have been my kick-back-and-relax time. I got called antisocial and a depraved introspective eccentric. I knew this book would cost me a huge chunk of time but still i invested it. And do you know why i did that Haruki? Hmmm? Why did I invest all that valuable time in your book? Because I thought it would pay off Haruki. But it didn't did it? It really didn't. 
 I could have spent all that time on so many other things, like bonding with relatives, or focusing on the texture of the tomatoes in my chicken philly submarine. But no, 1Q84 had to be just intriguing enough to keep me dangling off its edge right until the end before it said 'Sorry! no light here, this book is all just tunnel, really'. 
 If it weren't for the brilliance of your writing Haruki, or the fact that 'what i talk about when i talk about running' is one of my all time favorites, i'd seriously consider not ever picking up one of your books again. 
 But as it stands, I might just give one of your shorter books a chance. Just maybe, at some point in the unforeseeable future. And next time you write a book with a winding pointless plot. Please have the courtesy to keep it snappy. 
 Thank You