The View From Castle Rock by Alice Munro
While I'm not going to dismiss Munro's status as Canada's greatest-living-writer or Chekhov's heir or any of that, I don't think she deserves to have every little thing she writes published.
Much emphasis has been put on the fact that these are "stories." I understood that as being some way of differentiating them from being autobiography. Truthfully, they read like neither. They read like the stories you hear at a family reunion, or when your grandfather is on his third gin and tonic. They are interesting and often filled great detail, but often pointless.
I rank Munro up there among my favorite writers, but I was pretty disappointed by this. I wanted more. But that's what I get for having expectations.