I shat bricks.
True story.
Breadsticks.
No brick shitting for me. A couple of years ago, I heard rave reviews about this book and decided to get it. I stopped about a third of the way in, frustrated and bored with it. The story about the house was okay, but then it goes on a seperate tangent about the happy tattoo artist shitting bricks about reading the story about the house. Ooohh! How post-modern!
If I want to read a horror story with interweaving narritives, I'll re-read the classic Dracula again.
No bricks were shat, but I still liked it quite a bit.
Johnny's crap wasn't nearly as bad as all the random shit Zampano wrote discussing The Navidson Record.
Really, I don't give a damn about the underlying causes of Karen's claustrophobia or the symbolism of echoes. Especially not when it's written in mostly flat, droning prose.
I've got this.
Anyone think I should give it a second try?
I love this book, but it hate how 50% of it's fans are so goddamn pretentious. Like they're better than anyone who HASN'T read the book.
i loved it! i picked it up from the bookstore not knowing anything about it at all. so, without any hype coming at me i was truly impressed...
shat bricks and all...
I was a big fan of it. First book my current girlfriend and I read together, so that's probably more than a small part of it.
Hm, I have not heard of this book ever before, but now I kind of want to pick it up.