Next Book

Lynne truss

After the stiff-upperlip-smile of PGW, I chose for the next read, the Lynne Truss Treasury that I had picked up at Landmark for Rs. 90 (< $2), on a sale table, underneath mounds of "How to win friends and influence people", "Linda Goodman Lovesigns" and such other flush-worthy mush. Having been bowled over in the past with "Eats, Shoots and Leaves", the heart bled at the mix Truss had got into, and I took it upon myself to rescue the damsel in distress and give her a new home in our shining new book shelf.

Now, as I labour through the many pages of the first novel (One Lousy Free Packet of Seed) in the collection,  I wonder if its rightful place was right at that table.  Agreed that the author has a command of language and punctuation that is enviable. The story, if there is any in the first place, is hardly of the calibre I had imagined.  Perhaps it is early days yet, and the story would pick up after the third chapter I am constipating at, or perhaps this is an exceptionally bad piece in the collection, to give it a benefit of doubt.  Yet, I am wondering if I should continue to torture myself with this story, or perhaps move on to another in the collection, or her columns perhaps, or perhaps to a completely different book, like Erma Bombeck, to lift the sagging literary spirit - not that Erma has any literary merit to speak of, at least she makes me laugh. This first story in the book reminds me of a trashy pulp fiction I read as an adolescent called "I  still miss my man, but my aim is getting better" by Sarah Shankman.  I am not sure if that is a compliment to Shankman or Truss.

This, as usual, leads me to a tangential topic. Some people associate memories to smells, some to sights; I, to books.  I get a funny feeling in my stomach at the memory of "I still miss..." because I read it at a time that I was laid off my second job within six months during the 1997 recession, with a credit card balance, an expiring visa and no hope in sight and I had constant crabs gnawing the innards as I read the book to drown my sorrows.  Similarly, dude and I had listened to an audio book during my first trimester, and any audio book I hear since, makes me feel nausious and crave for saltines.

Back to where we started.  Should I or shouldn't I proceed with Truss?