There's something creepy about all of his books, even the children's stories. I love it.

I've never liked the idea of a hidden book. It means no one will ever randomly pick it up and have a conversation with you about it.

Unsurprisingly, Junot Díaz gives the best interview of the bunch.

The opening in a novel is important, yes? But the opening in a short story is a make or break moment.

I didn't stop giving hand jobs because I wasn't good at it. I stopped giving hand jobs because I was the best at it.

SOLD.

I have always wondered at the possibility of repetitive stress injuries when it comes (hehe) to sex workers. Thank god Gillian Flynn is here to answer all my questions fictionally.

This was an exceptionally creepy little bit. I'll say no more than that.

Notes: Outside of the sex worker/psychic career path, this character is me.

I read constantly. I think. But I lack formal education. So I'm left with the feeling that I'm smarter than everyone around me but that if I ever got around really smart people - people who went to universities and drank wine and spoke Latin - that they'd be bored as hell by me.

The Ranger was a quick, easy read. Not particularly enjoyable, but what's done is done. Our protagonist Quinn Colson comes back home to northern Mississippi after six years away as an Army Ranger to attend his uncle's funeral. As it always happens, there's some past issues stirred up (an old sweetheart who broke it off with him in a Dear John letter in boot camp, now married to the town doctor) as well as the mystery of his uncle's suicide (which, of course, was not a suicide at all).

It's a fine plot of small town gossip and the growing meth trade in Appalachia. I just ... didn't care about or even like ninety percent of the characters. I don't know if, deep down, I was judging them all for being exceptionally white trash. I grew up in a rural area, I know people who could have been Charley or Wesley or Caddy. I didn't like them much either. Points for realism.

What I did like about The Ranger was how even the third-person POV reflected the vernacular of the area.

You used to could drive past this place at midnight and know which girls had finally given in to their boyfriends or who was stepping out.

Informing the readers of the changes to the town, not through dialogue but just observation. It was a charming bit amongst the dip spitting, blackened teeth and unrelenting bad hygiene.

Read The Pillowman and went crazy for McDonagh; his work is so incredibly Irish, I have no other way to describe it. This book brings me to a total of five of his plays that I have raced through in a week's time. I have also just discovered that he is a director as well as a playwright, so this weekend will be filled with In Bruges and Seven Psychopaths, where he had the good taste in casting Colin Ferrell.

The Beauty Queen of Leenane
There's a theme in his work, and the theme is elderly people who annoy the shit out of their grown children and neighbors, to the point of death threats (see: Johnnypateeenmike in Cripple of Inishmaan and Maureen & Ray here). Things to know: Kimberley biscuits are apparently the worst type of all and should only be purchased to torment your irritating housebound mother.

MAG (pause): Do me a mug of tea, Ray. (Pause.) Or a mug of Complan do me, even. (Pause.) And give it a good stir to get rid of the oul lumps.

RAY: If it was getting rid of oul lumps I was to be, it wouldn't be with Complan I'd be starting. It would be much closer to home, boy. Oh aye, much closer. A big lump sitting in an oul fecking rocking-chair it would be. I'll tell you that!

A Skull in Connemara
When Mairtin showed up in a Manchester United shirt, I knew I wouldn't like him. Then we find out he would like to beat women (exceptin' of course, for his bad leg getting in the way) and was expelled from school for cooking a hamster alive, so my dislike was extremely justified. Also, he's a fucking idiot. At least now I know why Ray mentioned the priest slapping him in The Beauty Queen of Leenane "for no reason" - he asked about the church cutting "the willies off [of corpses they bury] and give them to the tinkers [to eat]".

The Lonesome West
Father Welsh-Walsh-Welsh has lost control of his parish. Or never, even once, had control of it to begin with.

GIRLEEN: Father Walsh Welsh has no sense of humour. I'll walk him the road home for himself, and see he doesn't get hit by a cow like the last time.

Overall: don't live in this fecking town, because you're likely to get offed by someone you're related to.