I finished The Lathe of Heaven on the flight out to California. It’s a well-written novel (very nearly a novella) that meditates on the idea of a protagonist whose dreams provide for uncontrolled alteration of reality. It resonates with the feeling I get when I see a street light go out right after I look at it. Or the feeling I get when I dream something only to discover it’s a thing. It also seems to toy with a bit of a parable isomorphic to the unintended consequences of a genie’s wishes.
It is succinct yet poignant, even if the ending is a little neat, tidy, and abrupt. The premise is simple and perhaps a bit allegorical and beaten to death, but the execution is good. It’s worth a read.