Have you ever had someone ask you if they can ask you a question? Did you fight the impulse to inform them that they just have, or did you politely say, "yes?" Would you enjoy a novel completely written in questions? If so, would such a book be better read in a public place such as a cafe, hospital, or while sitting on a crowded tram between a bickering couple? Would you prefer to read in solitude, or would you rather graft yourself onto a couch, sit astutely in a favorite chair, or hunker under a dim lamp with the memory of your ex-lover sleeping silently beside you as you turn those pages? Do you enjoy these conversations with yourself?