Just finished reading a book called "You are not a stranger here". It's by this chap called Adam Haslett and is one of the more memorable pieces of fiction I've read in a long while. Seeing as how it's also his literary debut makes it all the more impressive. It's a collection of short stories based in places as varied as St Andrews (Mon!) and Los Angeles, revolving around characters whose lives are filled with longing and almost always, a dark sense of humour. I'm not very good at reviewing books (as I've come to realise in the past few minutes, trying to blog this down) so I shall just say that this book struck me in so many ways; from its cover (an androgynous-looking and strangely sexy character lying on top of a bathtub??) to the way in which Haslett writes. His writing is filled with so much pain. I don't know if I was feeling particularly empathetic but everytime I started reading one of the many short stories, I felt myself being drawn in, engrossed and sorry to get to the end of each story. I also left each story feeling weary and bogged down by a weight I came to conclude was sadness, imparted from Haslett to me, the reader. I was thankful for being allowed to enter the world of each of the characters but also, anxious about being mired in a depression which was so distinctly foreign (I can't remember the last time reading a book made me sad...it must have been at least 5 years ago) and yet seemed so familiar (sadness is sadness after all, I suppose). Anyhoo, the time to play tennis has arrived. if y'all have time, try to get your hands on this book and let it consume you as it did me. You'll feel stronger/better for it, I think.

Choonage: Beck - Soul Suckin' Jerk