Sleeping with Books No. 7: Skippy Dies (And So Do I!)

Posted on December 25, 2010

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Throughout best books 2010 deliberations at my job, two words haunted me: SKIPPY DIES. While I dove headfirst into Franzen, Skloot, and the other short-list heavyweights, librarians on Twitter were word-of-mouthing the shit out of Paul Murray’s second novel about life at a private Catholic boys’ school in Dublin, Ireland.

Having read and liked Murray’s whimsical, hyper-sprawling (in a good way) debut, An Evening of Long Goodbyes, I took their endorsements of “funny” to mean on the bright side of that quality. But holy hot goddamn, it’s darker than the deepest pits of heroin addiction that Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards recounts in his amazing memoir, Life. I confess I’m not done, but still. Approach this novel knowing it’s a brutally honest dissection of Confused Youth in the techno-pharmacological world. Good, gravel-gritty stuff.

Muchas gracias to my gifted sister Kelly for the makeup job and playing the photographer. Oh, yeah, she also made that bitchin’ chain maille bracelet. Happy Christmas from my whacked-out art family to yours!

"Head is dead," to quote my sister Kelly, who styled and photographed me

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