It is the 24th of May and I have not read a single book this month. That is the most sad thing to happen to me in quite awhile.
I've been "reading" four books for the entire month, but I can't finish any. One is "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" which I know is a classic but I just can't get into it, sorry. A few are short story collections that I read on here and there. And one is the WORST book I have ever attempted to read, and I hate to mention the name here to even give it the tiniest bit of recognition, but it's Jonathan Tropper's "The Book of Joe" and it suuuuuuuuuuuuuucks more than anything I can imagine. The sentences are insane. My two faves:
I take a deep breath, but the tears continue to come, blurring my vision, and I have to quickly pull over onto the anorexic shoulder of the highway, choking back an astonished sob as I throw the car into park.
What the hell is an anorexic shoulder?! I've only had two fiction classes, but in both we've learned to make things NOT sound like writing. And anyone who enjoys reading knows it's better to get sucked up into the story, not to be aware you're reading a book. If that's not pure "writing" then I don't know what is. I didn't get sucked in at all. The character is a jackass who tries to act macho, so I called his bluff as soon as he choked back his astonished sob.
(FIRST PLACE WINNER FOR ALL OF TIME!!!)
Just before I passed out, their fuzzy silhouettes appeared to touch in a tentative embrace, but I'd barely noted the illusion when unconsciousness dispensed with the foreplay and hungrily consummated our union.
Tell me that didn't make you laugh. This guy needs to put down the thesaurus! Big words don't make him sound smart, they make him sound pompous. And the whole sexual reference? Might be clever if properly done, but it just didn't work here. Then again I've never hungrily consummated my union with sleep, so he might be describing that moment perfectly.
I made it to page 59 - the page after the 1st place sentence, and could go no further. I want a ribbon for making it that far, please. I should have read the author reviews first. One chick-lit author says "You really fall in love with Joe. By the end I wanted to have his babies!" I think I lost brain cells just reading that...
The sad thing is I had just read all but one of Tom Perrotta's books before starting this one, and I was loving fiction. After a semester of reading short stories from classmates, I was kind of not liking the reading thing too much. Then Tom made me love it again. Now this. This damn "Book of Joe" has turned me off ALL books! I can't pay attention to anything with pages! I've been wasting time online, listening to music, and... well, writing, which is good. Maybe I can't read when I'm writing? That would make sense, and makes me feel better about not reading this month because I've been writing a LOT. But I still want to hungrily consummate a union with a paperback before the 31st...