This was nearly 400 pages of an author trying to be clever and hyperbolically wacky and being ... tedious. I kept on to the end in the vain hope something interesting would happen, or that something like a point to the whole thing would emerge. It's possible this is something brilliant on the lines of Pynchon or DeLillo--I've never read any DeLillo and what I've seen of Pynchon hasn't made me want to read more--but honestly it really seemed like a pretty competent novelist trying to do a thing and failing.
Thursday, November 30, 2023
Wednesday, November 29, 2023
My Darkest Prayer by S. A. Cosby
A beautiful novel of violence, vengeance and pain, set against a backdrop of small-town bigotry. If you see this, or *Razorblade Tears*, take the motherfucker home with you. I'll let you know about *All the Sinners Bleed* once I've read it.
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Episode Thirteen by Craig DiLouie
This is labeled as an epistolary novel, but that's not entirely right. There are entries that could not possibly have been written, fr...
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I read this book like thirty years ago (ack!) when I was in college, and I remembered liking it, and when my wife picked it as a classic-i...
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The cover text calls this something like "one of the most important novels" blah blah blah. It's not a novel, it's a disc...
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Not a novel, which ... well ... some of the events described in the book would stretch credulity in fiction. It's a book about the lie...