The Stranger or L'Etranger if you know French-- Camus
It's short and sweet and killer imo.
Recommend me some reading matter
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Planet Dave
- Underneath the Rock
- Posts: 6700
- Joined: 22 Apr 2003, 23:51
- Location: Where the streets fold round
The entire Meg & Mog Collection. 
'What a heavy load Einstein must have had. Morons everywhere.'
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eastmidswhizzkid
- Faster Than The Light Of Speed
- Posts: 9856
- Joined: 24 Mar 2005, 00:01
- Location: WhizzWorld
- Contact:
"and the ass saw the angel"-not because its by nick cave (although that was the reason i first read it)but because its seriously fookin good
"the dirt"-the Motley Crue autobiob;yeah,i think they're s**t too but its one of the best written rock stories;complete with all the required r'n'r excesses and some genuinely tragic sad bits
"web"-john wyndham;no,nothing to do with internet geekery;just a disturbing "what if.." about our eight legged friends
"the dirt"-the Motley Crue autobiob;yeah,i think they're s**t too but its one of the best written rock stories;complete with all the required r'n'r excesses and some genuinely tragic sad bits
"web"-john wyndham;no,nothing to do with internet geekery;just a disturbing "what if.." about our eight legged friends
Well I was handsome and I was strong
And I knew the words to every song.
"Did my singing please you?"
"No! The words you sang were wrong!"
And I knew the words to every song.
"Did my singing please you?"
"No! The words you sang were wrong!"
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Black Biscuit
- Gonzoid Amphetamine Filth
- Posts: 361
- Joined: 09 Sep 2003, 11:45
- Location: In front of the computer
As I have said around here before, I generally stopped reading when I got the internet. But try "Secrets of the Rainmaker" by Chin Ning Chu, or "The Instant Millionaire" by Mark Fisher.
For something more escapist, try Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake.
As for Catcher in the Rye, Big Si, I've read that book, but my memory is so shot, I don't remember it too well. Is that the book about the kid in New York City? Broke, he walks home one morning at dawn, describing the walk as "41 glorious blocks".
For something more escapist, try Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake.
As for Catcher in the Rye, Big Si, I've read that book, but my memory is so shot, I don't remember it too well. Is that the book about the kid in New York City? Broke, he walks home one morning at dawn, describing the walk as "41 glorious blocks".
.... there is no semblance of rock 'n roll around here!
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Black Biscuit
- Gonzoid Amphetamine Filth
- Posts: 361
- Joined: 09 Sep 2003, 11:45
- Location: In front of the computer
While we are on this topic, I am a writer myself - amongst other things. One of my stories has sort of stopped in its tracks (after the first page!) and so I am hoping some friendly Heartlanders can make some suggestions to the text so far (below), by way of critique or story line input. It's called Night Shift.
Oh, and before we get into it, WB Yeats was quoted as saying, "the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity". On that note, here's my (one page) story so far...
- THE NIGHT SHIFT -
It was my first day on the job and the topic soon turned to drugs, as I was hoping it would.
The supervisor sat calmly behind his desk, sifting through piles of paper. I couldn't pick his nationality, but this only added to the already bent atmosphere that I picked-up on the moment I hired into the place.
Out of the corner of my eye I gave him a long look, poring over every detail in his worn-out workshirt and the ludicrous design of his neck-tie.
The atmosphere didn't seem to encourage reticence. "And what sort of drugs are you on?!", I asked incredulously.
He looked up from his desk confidently. "Just about anything that comes my way", he said with a relaxed smile.
And so it was that his comment set the tone for the next six months of my life, working midnight to dawn on vodka benders, smoke-ups, speed binges and hair-raising trip-outs.
Within a few days I was part of a family, accepted as a like-minded member of a community in which work took a backseat to the more serious business of getting ripped.
"No-one has spent more time getting smashed in this place than me," said a veteran employee by way of introduction, chuckling as he polished off a few quick cans on his tea break. "Not too much coffee gets consumed around here", he laughed as the supervisor, huffing and puffing, rolled a keg of beer through the staff-room door.
"We do things differently... no-one could accuse us of lacking a convivial atmosphere" he laughed, as the beer in his hand exploded in a foamy haze.
The supervisor straightened up, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. "I hope you remembered to disengage those pesky security cameras! We wouldn't want management getting wind of our priorities on this shift, would we?" he chuckled.
I lit a big hookah, leaning backwards. Eyes barely open, I looked up at the ceiling, observing its peeling paint and the faulty flicker of its strip lights as my face disappeared behind a cloud of wispy smoke.
"Well... I suppose you guys are feeling the effects of a nasty drought, eh?" the supervisor asked sympathetically as he tossed a cold can my way, miraculously appearing out of nowhere through the hookah smoke surrounding me.
I grimaced, blowing smoke out of the side of my mouth as I ripped the top off the can. I knew my days were numbered the moment I hired into the place, so I was determined to make it fun before it came crashing to a hungover end.
- to be continued -
Oh, and before we get into it, WB Yeats was quoted as saying, "the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity". On that note, here's my (one page) story so far...
- THE NIGHT SHIFT -
It was my first day on the job and the topic soon turned to drugs, as I was hoping it would.
The supervisor sat calmly behind his desk, sifting through piles of paper. I couldn't pick his nationality, but this only added to the already bent atmosphere that I picked-up on the moment I hired into the place.
Out of the corner of my eye I gave him a long look, poring over every detail in his worn-out workshirt and the ludicrous design of his neck-tie.
The atmosphere didn't seem to encourage reticence. "And what sort of drugs are you on?!", I asked incredulously.
He looked up from his desk confidently. "Just about anything that comes my way", he said with a relaxed smile.
And so it was that his comment set the tone for the next six months of my life, working midnight to dawn on vodka benders, smoke-ups, speed binges and hair-raising trip-outs.
Within a few days I was part of a family, accepted as a like-minded member of a community in which work took a backseat to the more serious business of getting ripped.
"No-one has spent more time getting smashed in this place than me," said a veteran employee by way of introduction, chuckling as he polished off a few quick cans on his tea break. "Not too much coffee gets consumed around here", he laughed as the supervisor, huffing and puffing, rolled a keg of beer through the staff-room door.
"We do things differently... no-one could accuse us of lacking a convivial atmosphere" he laughed, as the beer in his hand exploded in a foamy haze.
The supervisor straightened up, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. "I hope you remembered to disengage those pesky security cameras! We wouldn't want management getting wind of our priorities on this shift, would we?" he chuckled.
I lit a big hookah, leaning backwards. Eyes barely open, I looked up at the ceiling, observing its peeling paint and the faulty flicker of its strip lights as my face disappeared behind a cloud of wispy smoke.
"Well... I suppose you guys are feeling the effects of a nasty drought, eh?" the supervisor asked sympathetically as he tossed a cold can my way, miraculously appearing out of nowhere through the hookah smoke surrounding me.
I grimaced, blowing smoke out of the side of my mouth as I ripped the top off the can. I knew my days were numbered the moment I hired into the place, so I was determined to make it fun before it came crashing to a hungover end.
- to be continued -
.... there is no semblance of rock 'n roll around here!
That's the one! Not one of my ultimate faves, but a good read anyway. And IMHO Orwell's "Down and Out....." pishes all over Kerouac's "On The Road".Black Biscuit wrote:As for Catcher in the Rye, Big Si, I've read that book, but my memory is so shot, I don't remember it too well. Is that the book about the kid in New York City? Broke, he walks home one morning at dawn, describing the walk as "41 glorious blocks".
I, Lucifer by Glen Duncan
On of my holiday book impulse buys a few years back and one that bears repeated reading. Darkly funny and funnily dark in equal measure - the descriptions of Lucifer experiencing colours through human eyes is wonderful, and as for when he discovers wanking
On of my holiday book impulse buys a few years back and one that bears repeated reading. Darkly funny and funnily dark in equal measure - the descriptions of Lucifer experiencing colours through human eyes is wonderful, and as for when he discovers wanking
Amazon.co.uk Review wrote: Glen Duncan’s I, Lucifer begins one steamy summer as some heavy negotiations are taking place in Heaven. God has decided to give Lucifer, the furthest-fallen of all fallen angels, a second chance. The Prince of Darkness can return to the fold, provided he manages to last one month on earth without sin. The human form chosen for this celestial experiment? A depressed novelist of little renown, currently contemplating suicide in his Clerkenwell garret.
Lucifer eagerly grasps the opportunity for a holiday on earth, and uses his host’s identity to re-write the story of Creation in a format that has Hollywood moguls kissing his feet. It’s not popular with Him Upstairs, of course, what with the Devil being portrayed as a maverick free-thinker and God as a humourless autocrat. But Lucifer’s having too much fun to care. He’s experiencing the pleasures of the flesh for the first time and everything – the odour of sweaty tube trains, cocaine, ice-cream, dirty sex--delights him. By the time the archangels are dispatched to bring him back, the Lord of all that’s inhumane can’t think of anything he’d rather be than human.
Lucifer befogs his audience, alternately spitting fury at them like some sulphur-charged Dennis Leary and then insisting that he’s a nice guy, just misunderstood. What’s clear, however, is that Glen Duncan is not merely one of those writers who can come up with amusing concepts. He’s a sharp, sometimes savage observer of the human condition, whose talents are as many as the legions of Hell.--Matthew Baylis
Something pithy.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I too, bought this as a 'quick grab something before we get on the plane' a fair few years ago.mik wrote:I, Lucifer by Glen Duncan
On of my holiday book impulse buys a few years back and one that bears repeated reading. Darkly funny and funnily dark in equal measure - the descriptions of Lucifer experiencing colours through human eyes is wonderful, and as for when he discovers wanking
Amazon.co.uk Review wrote: Glen Duncan’s I, Lucifer begins one steamy summer as some heavy negotiations are taking place in Heaven. God has decided to give Lucifer, the furthest-fallen of all fallen angels, a second chance. The Prince of Darkness can return to the fold, provided he manages to last one month on earth without sin. The human form chosen for this celestial experiment? A depressed novelist of little renown, currently contemplating suicide in his Clerkenwell garret.
Lucifer eagerly grasps the opportunity for a holiday on earth, and uses his host’s identity to re-write the story of Creation in a format that has Hollywood moguls kissing his feet. It’s not popular with Him Upstairs, of course, what with the Devil being portrayed as a maverick free-thinker and God as a humourless autocrat. But Lucifer’s having too much fun to care. He’s experiencing the pleasures of the flesh for the first time and everything – the odour of sweaty tube trains, cocaine, ice-cream, dirty sex--delights him. By the time the archangels are dispatched to bring him back, the Lord of all that’s inhumane can’t think of anything he’d rather be than human.
Lucifer befogs his audience, alternately spitting fury at them like some sulphur-charged Dennis Leary and then insisting that he’s a nice guy, just misunderstood. What’s clear, however, is that Glen Duncan is not merely one of those writers who can come up with amusing concepts. He’s a sharp, sometimes savage observer of the human condition, whose talents are as many as the legions of Hell.--Matthew Baylis
Five cups of coffee just to be myself...when I'd rather be somebody else
The Throwback by Tom Sharpe. Never have innocence and ruthless destruction been funnier. This book is so funny that other people will steal it to find out why you're laughing so much. I first read it 20 years ago and literally thought I was going to die laughing at one point. I read it again 5 years later and again though I was going to die laughing. The 3rd read was a bit less traumatic but still hilarious. Then somebody nicked the book so I bought another copy which I've lent out and not had returned! A friend's dad had his copy stolen when he was reading it while sunbathing on the beach. He turned away to have a good laugh and when he turned back, the book was gone!
What? Like the time their singer was responsible for the death of Hanoi Rocks drummer Razzle? Drunk driving, feckin waste of space!eastmidswhizzkid wrote:"the dirt"-the Motley Crue autobiob;yeah,i think they're s**t too but its one of the best written rock stories;complete with all the required r'n'r excesses and some genuinely tragic sad bits
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boudicca
- Sister Midnight
- Posts: 7427
- Joined: 15 Sep 2004, 16:15
- Location: embrace the margin
- Contact:
DerekR wrote:What? Like the time their singer was responsible for the death of Hanoi Rocks drummer Razzle? Drunk driving, feckin waste of space!eastmidswhizzkid wrote:"the dirt"-the Motley Crue autobiob;yeah,i think they're s**t too but its one of the best written rock stories;complete with all the required r'n'r excesses and some genuinely tragic sad bits
Glad someone remembers.There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
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eastmidswhizzkid
- Faster Than The Light Of Speed
- Posts: 9856
- Joined: 24 Mar 2005, 00:01
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i was thinking more of his four year old daughter being eaten alive by a seven-pound cancerous tumour and his anguish at his inability to do anyhing for her.i agree,drink-drivings for cnuts;i learnt my lesson a long time ago and fortunately it only cost me a car(and a ban).that doesnt mean killing your best mates gonna be an easy thing to deal with.anyway,i cant stand motley crue...i just thought it was a good read especially compared to most rock biogs.
however..if thats not your cup of JD then "Rotten:no blacks,no dogs,no irish" is s**t-hot too.
however..if thats not your cup of JD then "Rotten:no blacks,no dogs,no irish" is s**t-hot too.
Well I was handsome and I was strong
And I knew the words to every song.
"Did my singing please you?"
"No! The words you sang were wrong!"
And I knew the words to every song.
"Did my singing please you?"
"No! The words you sang were wrong!"
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lazarus corporation
- Lord Protector
- Posts: 3433
- Joined: 09 May 2004, 17:42
- Location: out there on a darkened road
- Contact:
I, Lucifer is rather good - one of those impulse buys which I thought might be good-mediocre if I was lucky and turned out to be much better.
Falling Out of Cars by Jeff Noon - a road trip through a decaying England with a decaying psyche, from oop North to Brighton. This book mirrors my state of mind on far too many occasions in the past. For the times when you're not actually sure what's holding you together and keeping you going.
Falling Out of Cars by Jeff Noon - a road trip through a decaying England with a decaying psyche, from oop North to Brighton. This book mirrors my state of mind on far too many occasions in the past. For the times when you're not actually sure what's holding you together and keeping you going.
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Mrs RicheyJames
- Overbomber
- Posts: 4128
- Joined: 10 Feb 2003, 00:33
- Location: Rick Astley's house. Trying to find out why he chooses to look like Timsinister.
Anything by Jeffery Deaver. Esp. The Lincon Rhyme series.
Only a paand.
So, I'm back and heeded the word of heartland. These are the votes of the ruffers jury -mik wrote:
I, Lucifer - excellent. 9/10
Took the second of the His Dark Materials books as suggested - as expected, more of the same. I must admit I like them. 7/10
And also as suggested I finally got round to One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, and I enjoyed that as well. 8/10
You guys are great
NB - Do not even CONSIDER reading The Rule Of Four, allegedly the intelligent version of the Da Vinci Code. That was my girlfriend's selection to which I turned to after reading my three above, and it is p*ss poor. minus several million/10
Chucking another log on
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nick the stripper
- Slight Overbomber
- Posts: 1732
- Joined: 16 Dec 2004, 01:02
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What's Meg & MogFFS Dave wrote:The entire Meg & Mog Collection.
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Quiff Boy
- Herr Administrator
- Posts: 16778
- Joined: 25 Jan 2002, 00:00
- Location: Lurking and fixing
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kids books.nick the stripper wrote:What's Meg & MogFFS Dave wrote:The entire Meg & Mog Collection.
http://nutmeg.gen.nz/megandmog/
before your time
What’s the difference between a buffalo and a bison?
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nick the stripper
- Slight Overbomber
- Posts: 1732
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- Location: Somewhere between Athens and Jerusalem.
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I think my sister has some of those books in a box somewhere 
I think I have one or two mog n meg books myself.
I think I have one or two mog n meg books myself.
Last edited by nick the stripper on 01 Jun 2005, 11:43, edited 1 time in total.
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markfiend
- goriller of form 3b
- Posts: 21181
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Eco (Although I never finished "The Island Of The Day Before")
Just embarked on my second read of "Baudolino".
(Although I never finished "The Island Of The Day Before")Just embarked on my second read of "Baudolino".
The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.
—Bertrand Russell
—Bertrand Russell
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black-saturn
- Road Kill
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At the moment I am about half way through Heavier than Heaven by Charles R Cross which is the biography of Kurt Cobain. Very good 
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straylight
- Amphetamine Filth
- Posts: 233
- Joined: 20 Apr 2004, 15:56
Me too, but I think time the avenger has done its job on him...boudicca wrote:DerekR wrote:What? Like the time their singer was responsible for the death of Hanoi Rocks drummer Razzle? Drunk driving, feckin waste of space!eastmidswhizzkid wrote:"the dirt"-the Motley Crue autobiob;yeah,i think they're s**t too but its one of the best written rock stories;complete with all the required r'n'r excesses and some genuinely tragic sad bits