Another message comes in. A page from the Bigfoot Christmas book, featuring a particularly egregious use of decking the halls, as well as a reference to a sex move called the Voracious Yeti, which doesn’t sound remotely anatomically possible.Libby walks into my periphery. “Already done with the Wi-Fi?”“Thoroughly unplugged,” I reply. “Have you ever heard of the Voracious Yeti?”“That a children’s book?”“Sure.”“I’ll have to look it up.”My phone vibrates with another message: I find the Voracious Yeti highly implausible.I find myself smiling, possibly with knives. So disappointing. Really pulls the reader out of an otherwise stunning work of realism.