Getting going in earnest
I just started in on the first book of 2008 that you won't bother reading. The title is My Little Blue Dress by former Spy Magazine editor Bruno Maddox. This book is, structurally -- purposefully so, no less -- a mess. The author switches gears, changes styles, changes tone at seemingly random intervals. This can be very disorienting and, if you're a more...er...linear sort of reader, you may wind up hurling the book aside with an avalanche of profanity for added emphasis.
Given Spy's outlook on literature, it's no wonder its former editor would have come up with a clearly post-modern satire of the memoir genre. This is all I can tell you without drowning you with a torrent of spoilers: This book is ostensibly about a centenarian woman who has led a wild life and is at death's door in Chinatown, with the "author" ghost-writing her biography.
It's rollicking stuff, and I guarantee that, mechanically at least, it is like nothing else you have ever read. There is some drag, as befits a debut novel seemingly published during the bitter strike by the Editors of America Guild, but it's not bad and the tempo and gearshifting soon have you moving along nicely. Unless you are easily disoriented, in which case you'd better skip this book like you were going to anyway.
You probably won't read this one either, but you should.