get it?
i don’t.
here is what I am reading as of now:
The Boy Detective Fails by Joe Meno on Punk Planet Books
The book begins by praising Billy Argo, the young detective, who with his sister Caroline and their friend Fenton, solve various mysteries plaguing their town. The book continues way on into Billy’s life, which I found to be an interesting concept – a once boy detective, now a man. It’s like, what ever happened to those hardy boys, did they grow to become real detectives, or did they sort of lose their minds in college and became odd jobbers, looking to score some hard drugs.
I wish I could go on about The Boy Detective, but I’d hate to spoil even a single drop of the plot.
As I read one book, I am usually partially into about two or three more. It’s the whole notion that we, as teenagers, or as people never really finish anything. Sometimes I read books simulataneously, but I find myself remembering bits of plot and placing them into the wrong timelines. That reminds me of when I cannot discern a dream-reality to a life-reality, taking dreams as memories. Very befuddling stuff.
As for another:
The Name of the World by Denis Johnson
Ah, good old Denis Johnson. I have read one other of his: Resuscitation of a Hanged Man. I am not too far into this newer book as of now, probably about a hundred pages. All I am going to say is that it is a really interesting look into academia, as well as life after a death in the family. His books remind me of the winter, the coldness. He describes to me the human condition in all purity. Hitting every note i’ve heard once before in my own life or even still hear today.
