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| The only way I can mek this book interesting for you, is to lob me massive jugs over the words.Lol! |
It’s bin ages since my last review and it’s not because I’m thick and can’t read, it’s because I haven’t gor a clue what this book is about so it’s taken meh ages ta read it. The best way I can explain it ta yous is ta use an allergy. So here goes. When I go around ta meh mate ‘Dave the Dealer’ he always insists on skinning up and usually with the weed he’s just solt meh! Charming. Anyways, Dave always starts ranting on about someink and then other people join in and before you know it, everyone’s yapping on. Then we all start laughing, not because Dave the Dealer is funneh, but because we’re so boxed we don’t know wor else ta do. After we’ve all had a good giggle, the room goes silent and everyone looks a bit embarrassed as they don’t know what ta do so Dave offers ta skin-up. Then he tolts us the same story all over again etc.
Just like my nights at Dave the Dealer’s, I haven’t gor a clue what this young author’s going on about. He keeps sayin' the same thing, over and over again, but unlike meh nights out with Dave the Dealer, I want laughin. In the end I had no choice but ta skin-up when I read it which helped because I soon forgot what I wor reading which meant it didn’t matter when I read the same thing again in the next chapter. Personally, I think it’s bad for writers ta encourage people ta smoke drugs ta help them endure their novels because they’re meant ta be posh and clever and know stuff that we don’t. Bloody hippo critics.
Ta be fair ta Steven Wilcoxson, some parts of the book were really poetry. He has some really bootylicious turn of phrases that reminded meh a bit of that Jon McGregor. But the problem is he reminded meh of a broken Jon McGregor, like what he would write like if he wor on acid and with a bit of autism thrown in for good measures.
Of course lots of authors write meaningless shite because that’s what they’re paid ta do. But that’s why ppl like meh don’t buy their books. LOL! Jordan’s autobiography outsold the entire Booker Shortlist because she doesn’t write meaningless repetitive shite. She writes interesting stuff about marrying six-pack Pete, coping with a deformed babeh and how ta eat Kangaroo’s bollocks in the jungle. Maybe that’s where this author went wrong. He’s tried ta rip off Bret Easton Ellis’ Less than Zero, replacing rich young American college students getting off their heads with skint youths from Nottingham getting trolleyed. What wor it that Pablo Picasso sez: ‘The bad artists imitate, the great artists steal’. The best this author will end up with is an ASBO.
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| To take full advantage of this book, wear sun glasses and get stoned |
The main reason I read this book wor because the author is young and it meks a change from all the biddy lit I’ve bin reading recently. According ta one of them big snobby-papers the average age of a first-time author is in their thirties so Steven’s done really well getting published at twenty-five, which must make him feel a bit proud at doing it early, which I can understand having got preggers at thirteen before anyone else on our street. The cover has got this funky design of a guy wearing black sunglasses so perhaps he’s telling us if we wear them when we read his book we won’t be able to see anything and so we can make it up. That’s well clever but I think I’ll stick with the weed.
Katie Half-Price may be getting her tits out at our spoken-word event 'Scribal Gathering' which is a free event at Nottingham Contemporary on Wednesday August 4th at 7.15pm
If you would like to get stoned and read Steven Wilcoxson's debut novel, see the Weathervane Press website.
If you want meh to get meh 'tweets out' follow me on twitter.com/katiehalfprice
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