Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
Two friends build video games together across 30 years. This is a novel about creativity, collaboration, and the kinds of love that don't fit the romantic template. It made literary fiction feel genuinely exciting to a generation of readers who'd been told they didn't read literary fiction.
The friendship admirers call the book's love story runs on a pattern of long silent estrangements over grievances the book never fully explains, and more than one reader calls that repetition the problem. Sadie draws the sharpest criticism, entitled and resentful about credit for her own work without the complication that might earn a reader's patience; one reviewer admits “I did struggle to like her the more I read”. The dense, digression-heavy prose pulls some readers out rather than in, and another calls it flatly, “The prose was pretentious and unnecessary.” A separate complaint targets how the book handles race, disability, gender and sexuality, landing for some as checked boxes rather than earned character, one reader accusing it of “trying so hard to be woke”. An early subplot involving Sadie and a married mentor gets raised and dropped, and the second half could lose a hundred pages without losing anything real.
The case for it and the rest of the canon open with Pro.
