I wanted Vampire Smut.
Not this--- Pulitzer Prize Winner???
In spite of myself - I was intrigued. And since my spasticness bought the damn tome, I was going to read it.
I can't even recall the last Pulitzer-worthy book I held in my greasy lil' hands - which should tell you how much I enjoy reading "intelligent" fiction.
But I digress.
I settled in each night, iPad pressed against my nose lest the sleeping baby tyrant see the glow and roar his disapproval. I got to know the characters somewhat, each flushed out to be intelligent or drug-addled, all damaged in some "cool" way that real people never are. All had smartass answers to seemingly innocuous questions and each person introduced was cleverly intertwined back to the original love-triangled teenagers we met in a previous chapter. The book spanned decades and - I got lost. I felt like I was being apparated and got splinched, to steal an example from JK Rowling's books. Each time a new chapter hit I was left wondering whose head I was in, what time was it and why should I care.
By the time I got to the chapter written entirely in Powerpoint Slides (no, not joking) I was ready to toss the book out the window.
But, seeing as how I like my iPad, and was not near a window, I forged ahead.
Through 300 pages.
It was like watching a soap opera where all the characters were ones you didn't care about but you couldn't change the channel because your half-dead Aunt Lulu has watched it since she was twelve. So you suffer through it. Catching snippets. Getting caught up in one of the 30 storylines weaving across the screen only to find out it was a subplot that wasn't even important enough to be tied up neatly.
So - my final review?
I didn't like it.
I didn't get why it was a "winner," per se.
So I downloaded Rick Riordin's new book.
Knowing that, if all else fails, the main characters were not likely to end up as drug abusing hookers in Venice.
At least, I hope not. :)