Bill Clinton’s book My Life is out today, and most reviewers think it’s a big rambling yawn. (Could someone have at least jazzed up the title?) What a shame. Not exactly One Hundred Years of Solitude, I guess. I’ll judge for myself. I ordered my copy online yesterday, and it should arrive in a couple of days.
[Update (23 June): Slate reads My Life so you don’t have to (“The Condensed Bill Clinton” via kottke.org).]