Today, I returned two digital books to the library without finishing them. It’s rare that I get so anxious that I’m forced to “throw in the towel” so abruptly.
I sought out Mat Taibibi’s “Insane Clown President” because I had expected it to be fact-based humorous account of Donald Trump’s ascent to U.S. President. But the first twenty pages, replete with subscripts and lists were enough to make me gag. Bless Trevor Noah’s heart for being the gracious advertising executive and cheerleader for Taibibi. Perhaps, my brain was ill-prepared for the term-paper commentary I saw. With a writer’s mind, what confounded me most was identity of the book. Was it a memoir, novel, or documentary script? I didn’t know. The lack of classification created a image akin to a STOP sign at a four-way intersection. All I saw was red. The initial reading seemed rather diffuse, and much like a disjointed collection of stories from an oracle.
Just this second, I’m thinking of that black Porsche Kyan in “Eagle Eye” Shia LaBeouf was fighting with a computer oracle that was insanely vindictive.
Leave it to The Daily Show to throw me a curve ball. While I may consider re-reading Taibibi’s work at a later time, I might have to sit this one out.
I’m a new literary geek still hunting the genre best for me. While I’m stuck in satire, humor, and fiction, I can only hope that I’ll discover more new genres to explore. I do favor the cerebral books as long as they are based loosely on something real.
I’ve been exploring urban romances. The second book was an army romance in the time of “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell”. I wanted to hurl. After the first three chapters, I ruled that the book was too tawdry for me. The urban romance search is disappointing so far because the language reeks with banality. I think Mat Johnson’s literary greatness has spoiled me and I’m searching for the next author that rivals his ability to write captivating prose. I’d love any ideas from my audience right now. I guess that’s all. I’ll go back to my reading chair, now.