CritterBoy and I went for a drive last night and ended up near a book store, so I grabbed a copy of My Friend Leonard, the sequel to A Million Little Pieces. I started it last night (and ended up staying up WAY later than I should have), and continued reading on the ferry this morning, since it is now too dark on the car deck in the mornings to knit, especially on something dark. And I cried and cried and cried. And I laughed and laughed. I’m sure the guy in the car next to me thought I was totally cracked. Whatever with him. I’m not all that far into it yet, but so far it looks like it will be at least as good as, if not maybe even better than the first one. I love Frey’s writing style. And yeah, here I go with the book pimpin’ link again. I promise I won’t do this every day, but… yeah. We’re about to be living on 1/3 the income we’ve been living on, and, frankly, that won’t quite cover the basics, so I’m pimpin’ books. And yarn, apparently, judging by the ads that google is putting over in the sidebar. And selling some crap on ebay. And fixing computers. And… and I still haven’t come up with more than that yet, but I prolly will. So clicky clicky, ‘cos every little bit helps, right?
October 5th, 2005
I just finished reading a book I picked up at the airport last weekend while waiting for Barb’s husband’s plane to arrive. He was off working in Chicago when Barb’s water broke, and my Job For The Day was to get him to the hospital Before The Baby Arrived. Turned out that wasn’t actually going to be a problem, but we didn’t know that at the time.
Anyway. The book. I bought it because, going against everyone who has ever told me “never judge a book by its cover”, I liked the cover. The image of a hand completely covered in cupcake sprinkles made me happy. Yeah, the blurb on the back sounded vaguely interesting, but dammit, I liked the cover. So I bought it. Even though it had an Oprah’s Book Club sticker on it. I pushed through that shit and bought it anyway.
Holy shit, folks. Good book. Strangely written, but really good. I write like I talk (well, mostly. I actually swear a LOT more in person), but this guy writes like he thinks. It’s stream of consciousness in a totally primal way. The content was, at times, really fuckin’ bleak, but I couldn’t put it down. And yeah, I cried at the end. Bigtime. And not because it was particularly sad, but because it was BIG. Maybe part of that was because it’s been a really BIG week and all that emotional stuff that I usually keep locked up tight has been right there at the surface, I don’t know. But it was good.
There you go. The book review of the day. Link immediately to follow. Clicky clicky.
October 3rd, 2005