Well, last week I was all full of public service, giving you tips on what to read while eating bonbons in the hammock this summer, all while smiling contentedly at the distant peals of laughter while your children play merrily in the summer sunshine encourage ants to crawl on them “because it tickles me.”
Guess which part of that sentence is true at my house?
You can’t make this stuff up. Henry chases them saying, “tickle, tickle!”
Unless you LIKE weird, fantastical accounts of matricide by a middle-aged, nude life model and mother of two, including a description of the deceased’s genitals, and scenes of sex with young men in cars immediately afterwards (I cannot WAIT to see what my Google searches are going to bring me tomorrow.), I’d give The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold a pass.
Her writing, like in Lucky and The Lovely Bones, is as meticulous and spare as ever. It was the quality of her writing that got me as far as page 63.
But then I thought to myself, time for reading is a luxury, and there is NOTHING luxurious about witnessing the machinations of protagonist Helen’s mind as she…wait for it….decides to put her dead mom in the freezer.
What else should I NOT read this summer? Because I want those minutes back!