The Library at Mount Char

She knew every word that had ever been spoken, but she could think of nothing to say that might ease his grief.

I honestly don't know how to describe this book that will make it justice. A wild ride is the closest I can think of. Carolyn and her siblings of crazy. Steve, the representation of normal. Talking animals. A crumbling world. It's fun.

Steve sighed, wishing for a cigarette. “The Buddha teaches respect for all life.” “Oh.” She considered this. “Are you a Buddhist?” “No. I’m an asshole. But I keep trying.”

It's been a while since I read something that was this level of joy to read. It's not really similar to Douglas Adams, but it does remind me of him in terms of how much fun I think the author had in the creative process.

“With this particular species of crazy, you stop trying to make things better. You start trying to maximize the bad. You pretend to like it. Eventually you start working to make everything as bad as possible. It’s an avoidance mechanism.” Jennifer looked Carolyn directly in the eyes. “It can’t actually work. That’s why they call it crazy.”

If you enjoy fantasy, absurd stories, and lyrical writing, read it.

“That’s the risk in working to be a dangerous person,” she said. “There’s always the chance you’ll run into someone who’s better at it than you.”