(sic)

Book: (sic)
Author: Sean Landers
Where I read it: A little here, a little there. Didn't quite finish the whole thing, if you must know.
File under: Artsy and clever, for the sake of
What I thought:
Whoa, what a solipsistic guy! If it weren't for his large, possibly affected vocabulary, you might think he was like, 10. Evidently, this book is now out of print, and used copies are selling from $50 and up. So, in my decision to ditch the copy I bought for $2.99 by giving it to Goodwill several years ago, I made a poor financial decision. Who knew that one man's desire to see if he could handwrite 1000 pages in a month in a sloppy, stream of consciousness manner that is almost too scripted to really be totally random would generate so much demand?

The worst part for me was where he was so tired of writing everyday that he had to come up with elaborate little fantasies to keep going. For instance, he pretended that his mother was kidnapped and the abductors' ransom was that Sean write 1000 pages in a month, or else they'd kill her. Based on the dysfunctional relationship most people seem to have with their mothers, is this really an incentive?

There was also much pontification about his sex life, and sexual acts, past, present, future, and imagined.

His fights with his girlfriend seemed pretty petty.

There was one funny bit where he drew his penis, full size, and then rambled on about how he realized that when the book was published, that the legal pad he was writing on would be necessarily shrunk to fit the size of the book page, and that it would appear that his dick was like, half as big as it was in real life and the implications of that.

Overall, just too much like what I fear the inside of any man's head looks like.