Dave Eggers, not so much

I once tried to read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. I'm not a hipster by any stretch of the definition, but I do love my David Sedaris and Sarah Vowell and all the other stuff the kids are reading these days. February 2003, unemployed, getting ready to go to the Bahamas. A nice, long book to read while I lounge on the beach like some trust fund kid who can actually afford to be traipsing around on a tiny island with no job prospects back home.

This is the first day on the beach:

Ugh, I HATE this fucking book! And then I threw it, dangerously close to the water, laid my head back and worked on my sunburn for the remainder of the afternoon. Before returning to the house, I picked it up, shook out the sand and put it back on the coffee table.

The next day:

I don't care about your shitty life, Dave Eggers! You're a jackass! Again, the book is thrown.

And the next:

You are so full of yourself! I hate you!

And so it went, for ten days. My fellow travelers could have made some serious money had they started betting on how long it would take me to toss the book. After which I gave up, and let me tell you - three things I NEVER give up on are books, movies and boys who need to be saved. Often to my detriment. I just could not do it, though. I was not staggered by that book. It still taunts me from my bookshelf. It did so last night. It said, Out of all of these books, I'm the only one you couldn't finish. Too long for you? Too much for you? I'm hoping one of my friends will borrow it at some point. One of the friends who doesn't give borrowed things back.