Far be it from me to tell anyone what to read or what not to read. I would never do that. But my edgy alter ego, Ridley, would. (Ridley gets me punched a lot.)
Below is a list of what I… I mean Ridley... believes are better alternatives to several popular and classic books.
(Warning: Literary – and literal – sacrilege ahead.)
READ Ham on Rye, NOT The Catcher in the Rye. When it comes to the classic male coming-of-age novel, most sane people think J.D. Salinger, not Charles Bukowski. But sanity shouldn’t factor in when talking about males coming of age. Bukowski’s Ham on Rye does a better job than The Catcher in the Rye of capturing the angst, isolation and hormonal madness of a teen boy trying to make his way in the world. I mean, wouldn’t you rather read about a gritty kid coming of age in Los Angeles during the Great Depression than about a pompous rich kid whining about his charmed life while playing hooky from prep school?
READ Hope: A Tragedy, NOT Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl. Perhaps this one is more of a “read this AFTER that,” as who in their right mind would ever diss Ms. Frank’s legendary diary. Hope: A Tragedy, however, is definitely the funnier of the two books, and we could all use a few laughs these days. It’s a fictional tale about how Anne Frank secretly survived the Holocaust and is living in the attic of a modern-day family’s farmhouse in rural New York. The book is as touching as it is uproarious and irreverent, and, unlike The Diary of a Young Girl, it does not require the reader to have an entire case of Kleenex or any Zoloft on hand when they get to the end.
READ The Golden or The Shake or Enter, Night or Blood Vice, NOT Twilight. Some people might think that the Twilight books have been picked on enough on this blog over the past year, but those people would be incorrect. If you’re looking for a vampire book truly worthy of the paper it’s printed on (or the Kindle it’s being read on), you can’t go wrong with any of the Twilight alternatives listed above. You may have never heard of them, but trust me, each features exquisite writing and compelling storytelling. And yes, plenty of delicious, nutritious blood.
READ the back of a cereal box, NOT Fifty Shades of Grey. No, I’m not some sexual deviant who gets aroused by what I read on the back of cereal boxes… well, except for Grape-Nuts of course. And if you are really paying attention, you shouldn’t get aroused by what you read in Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not that I have anything personal against author E.L. James; it’s that I have something personal against really poorly devised erotica – and all of the houses, cars and islands Ms. James is now able to buy because of it.
READ any Chuck Palahniuk novel, though NOT without consulting a physician first. Palahniuk’s work is a big reason why I became a fiction writer – that and the fact that I’m virtually unhireable. He is the master of darkly comedic transgressive fiction, and his stories cause just enough brain damage to make you interesting and compel you to never pick up a copy of Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey again. There have been reports of audience members passing out during his public readings, so if you have a weak heart or were raised in the Midwest, ask your doctor if she/he thinks it’s safe for you to read a Palahniuk novel. If she/he says no, find a new doctor.
READ The Old Testament, NOT The New Testament. While neither of these books is a beach read, at least all the sinners who are murdered and massacred in the Old Testament no longer have to fear the wrath of God once they’re dead and buried. That book’s God is perfectly content just to have them out of the picture. In the New Testament, however, God’s hell-bent on bringing the pain to sinners for all eternity. Death isn’t the end, it’s God just getting warmed up. It’s all a bit heavy handed. I appreciate the authors’ (note the plural possessive) intention, but a mere mortal reader can handle only so much violence and damnation. Never mind the success of Game of Thrones.
READ Notes on an Orange Burial, NOT A Confederacy of Dunces. Don’t get me wrong, I loved A Confederacy of Dunces, it’s just that my lame alter ego, Greg, doesn’t get any royalties whenever somebody buys a copy of it. Notes on an Orange Burial, on the other hand, was Greg’s debut novel, and has drawn comparisons to Dunces from numerous readers – some of whom Greg didn’t even ask, “Doesn’t my book remind you a little of A Confederacy of Dunces?”
READ The Exit Man, NOT whatever you're reading now. C’mon, you had to have seen that one coming.
For those of you who were upset and/or angered by my… I mean RIDLEY’S post, fear not – this was the last time he’ll be guest-blogging here. My new medication seems to be working.
Below is a list of what I… I mean Ridley... believes are better alternatives to several popular and classic books.
(Warning: Literary – and literal – sacrilege ahead.)
READ Ham on Rye, NOT The Catcher in the Rye. When it comes to the classic male coming-of-age novel, most sane people think J.D. Salinger, not Charles Bukowski. But sanity shouldn’t factor in when talking about males coming of age. Bukowski’s Ham on Rye does a better job than The Catcher in the Rye of capturing the angst, isolation and hormonal madness of a teen boy trying to make his way in the world. I mean, wouldn’t you rather read about a gritty kid coming of age in Los Angeles during the Great Depression than about a pompous rich kid whining about his charmed life while playing hooky from prep school?
READ Hope: A Tragedy, NOT Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl. Perhaps this one is more of a “read this AFTER that,” as who in their right mind would ever diss Ms. Frank’s legendary diary. Hope: A Tragedy, however, is definitely the funnier of the two books, and we could all use a few laughs these days. It’s a fictional tale about how Anne Frank secretly survived the Holocaust and is living in the attic of a modern-day family’s farmhouse in rural New York. The book is as touching as it is uproarious and irreverent, and, unlike The Diary of a Young Girl, it does not require the reader to have an entire case of Kleenex or any Zoloft on hand when they get to the end.
READ The Golden or The Shake or Enter, Night or Blood Vice, NOT Twilight. Some people might think that the Twilight books have been picked on enough on this blog over the past year, but those people would be incorrect. If you’re looking for a vampire book truly worthy of the paper it’s printed on (or the Kindle it’s being read on), you can’t go wrong with any of the Twilight alternatives listed above. You may have never heard of them, but trust me, each features exquisite writing and compelling storytelling. And yes, plenty of delicious, nutritious blood.
READ the back of a cereal box, NOT Fifty Shades of Grey. No, I’m not some sexual deviant who gets aroused by what I read on the back of cereal boxes… well, except for Grape-Nuts of course. And if you are really paying attention, you shouldn’t get aroused by what you read in Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not that I have anything personal against author E.L. James; it’s that I have something personal against really poorly devised erotica – and all of the houses, cars and islands Ms. James is now able to buy because of it.
READ any Chuck Palahniuk novel, though NOT without consulting a physician first. Palahniuk’s work is a big reason why I became a fiction writer – that and the fact that I’m virtually unhireable. He is the master of darkly comedic transgressive fiction, and his stories cause just enough brain damage to make you interesting and compel you to never pick up a copy of Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey again. There have been reports of audience members passing out during his public readings, so if you have a weak heart or were raised in the Midwest, ask your doctor if she/he thinks it’s safe for you to read a Palahniuk novel. If she/he says no, find a new doctor.
READ The Old Testament, NOT The New Testament. While neither of these books is a beach read, at least all the sinners who are murdered and massacred in the Old Testament no longer have to fear the wrath of God once they’re dead and buried. That book’s God is perfectly content just to have them out of the picture. In the New Testament, however, God’s hell-bent on bringing the pain to sinners for all eternity. Death isn’t the end, it’s God just getting warmed up. It’s all a bit heavy handed. I appreciate the authors’ (note the plural possessive) intention, but a mere mortal reader can handle only so much violence and damnation. Never mind the success of Game of Thrones.
READ Notes on an Orange Burial, NOT A Confederacy of Dunces. Don’t get me wrong, I loved A Confederacy of Dunces, it’s just that my lame alter ego, Greg, doesn’t get any royalties whenever somebody buys a copy of it. Notes on an Orange Burial, on the other hand, was Greg’s debut novel, and has drawn comparisons to Dunces from numerous readers – some of whom Greg didn’t even ask, “Doesn’t my book remind you a little of A Confederacy of Dunces?”
READ The Exit Man, NOT whatever you're reading now. C’mon, you had to have seen that one coming.
For those of you who were upset and/or angered by my… I mean RIDLEY’S post, fear not – this was the last time he’ll be guest-blogging here. My new medication seems to be working.
