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ironymaidenit's full of beautiful and disturbing images. magical and improbable things happen that fascinate. its best quality is its capacity to surprise, to lead you on to see what could possibly happen next. the reader is left in doubt as to when we are in the world and when we are in a sleeping girl's dreams, as well as how the timeline works, and i do relish that sort of complexity. there's yummy food, and music, and handjobs, and a circus, and even a prince - all the elements are there for me to latch on to this book and love it.
it's 257 pages long and easily two thirds of the pages are half white space. it's a bunch of cool moments strung together, like someone had taken their notebook of story ideas and submitted it as a manuscript. if literature is supposed to be about character, then surely this must be genre fiction, where the idea is king; the people in this story are basic automatons who have crazy beautiful adventures. it's emotionally vacant. yes, i know it's supposed to be dreamlike.
after i finished it i found myself wondering why i finished it. i suppose i was sure that the glimmers i got were going to lead to a big payoff. rereading the jacket blurbs, i can now see that two of the three are beautifully crafted versions of "that sure was a book. it was made of paper. it's interesting."
i want to get all my writer friends together with that woman's agent. whoever sold the ms is a great talent.
it's 257 pages long and easily two thirds of the pages are half white space. it's a bunch of cool moments strung together, like someone had taken their notebook of story ideas and submitted it as a manuscript. if literature is supposed to be about character, then surely this must be genre fiction, where the idea is king; the people in this story are basic automatons who have crazy beautiful adventures. it's emotionally vacant. yes, i know it's supposed to be dreamlike.
after i finished it i found myself wondering why i finished it. i suppose i was sure that the glimmers i got were going to lead to a big payoff. rereading the jacket blurbs, i can now see that two of the three are beautifully crafted versions of "that sure was a book. it was made of paper. it's interesting."
i want to get all my writer friends together with that woman's agent. whoever sold the ms is a great talent.
