Shortly before hopping on a
Shortly before hopping on a plane to Vancouver, I was rummaging around the bookstore. Knowing full well that whatever movie the airline foisted on me would be family-oriented schlock, I craved a new book. What I found was the worst kind of judging-by-its-cover-ness I've ever fallen victim to. But in self-defense, let me point out that I don't think many could resist the title that hooked my attention.
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius was the title; the author, one Dave Eggers. I gingerly picked it up, hungrily leafed through a few pages, and then paraded over to the cashier, like a hunter with a freshly maimed rabbit.
The short "lucky thoughts" review? Great book. Clever author. It's a memoir, but it's not written like one; it's about an ordinary guy (the author) who reads extraordinary. Need more evidence? The Harvard Advocate published an interview with Eggers that portrays him at his finest.
Little did I know, in fact, that Eggers was the man behind McSweeney's, the eccentric literary journal (also worth a click).
Previously: WARNING. The following link contains
Subsequently: Afternoon rant: When did leverage
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