I'm not a big fan of books that either make me cry, suspend a great amount of disbelief or frighten me. Since I cried reading the opening pages of Marley and Me, couldn't comprehend the idea of wizards and Hogwarts at a boarding school for magic and I wasn't allowed to read several editions of The Babysitters Club because they scared me, one might think my reading list is quite limited.
Fear not, my friends, because I have an uncanny appreciation for a certain genre. I call it "journalistic non-fiction with a snarky, sensationalized, pop culture overtone that is smart and funny without trying too hard."
Some recent reads that I strongly recommend:
The true story of a gay jewish forever single 40 something New Yorker looking for love in all the wrong places while his recently widowed father is drinking from the fire hydrant when it comes to women.
David Carr, writer for the New York Times, investigates the story of a drug addict, wife beater and drunk - his own. Apparently, his memory of his past doesn't always line up to reality.
A look at American branding and its obsession with painting a prettier picture than truly innovating and creating new beneficial, smarter products.
A rare inside look at what goes on in one of NYC's most swanky eateries. Here's a hint: be glad that you don't have to use the workers' restroom, and if you did, you would definitely want to tip better.
A writer vows to follow every piece of her trash to its final resting place for a year. It takes her farther than she ever imagined and it still makes me think twice before buying anything made of plastic.
And I've just started Pitch Perfect
A non fiction account of four collegiate a capella groups and their quest for greatness.
Next on the list: Moose: A Memoir of Fat Camp.
Based on the title alone, I don't think it can get any better.
(Thanks to fauves on etsy for the cutest stuffed moose I've ever seen... not that I've seen that many, but still.)
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