during my mandated four day weekend from work last week, i didn’t set my alarm, but woke up naturally by 8:30 every morning (that’s sleeping in). because my bedroom is in the back, it’s dark enough to sleep peacefully, but because i don’t have a door, i woke to see the gorgeous sunlight in my front room at a time when i’m not usually around to enjoy it. not the case last week, when i just moved from my bed to my reading chair, and this was the one that i devoured during the break. i don’t care what anyone says, i love james frey‘s style, the way he shirks the rules of punctuation, and how effortlessly he moves between writing non-fiction and fiction. yea, yea, one could make the argument that that was the crux of all of his troubles, but i don’t care-as far as i’m concerned-all he writes is truth. he may have lost some but he just won me. every single time. i think i’ve read through his canon by now, but i look forward to what comes next…
“It is illegal in the City of Los Angeles to hunt for moths beneath the arc of a streetlight.” (387)
“There are more support groups in Los Angeles for the victims of UFO abduction than in the rest of the country combined.” (388)
“The world’s first video graveyard, where TV screens play videos of the people buried beneath them twenty-four hours a day, every day for eternity, is in Los Angeles.” (388)
“Whatever the level of success, whether they are fluffers (women who, off camera, keep the male actors erect between shots), anal specialists, golden shower girls, toesuckers or world-famous brand-name porno superstars, they come reading willing and able, year after year after year, to a city that welcomes them, loves them, uses them, sells them, year after year, they come.” (358-9)
LA, LA, big city of dreams-but everything in LA ain’t always what it seems.