The Art of Writing Suckily.

One of the first dates my husband and I went on was the US Formula One Grand Prix in Indianapolis. This was...2004? Jeebus. He is a mega F1 fan. I have learned to appreciate racing[1] to a degree. Mostly for me it's about the individual drivers and who I decide I like, who I don't like, who I want to see win...that kind of a thing.

My mom has learned some of their names, and can also 'appreciate' it. She found this book and lent it to me. It's called The Art of Racing in the Rain. She assumed I would like it because it a) is told from the standpoint of a dog, and b) it has lots of F1 racing references.

I've never written a book review, so I'm not sure where to start. Especially considering I read this several months ago. Especially since (if you couldn't guess)...I hated it.

I don't know what the author thought he was doing. The whole premise is that the main human character is a substitute race-car driver who is especially good at racing in the rain, much like his idol, Michael Schumacher. Schumi is, for those of you unversed in F1, arguably one of the greatest drivers of all time. He's won 7 world championships, which is a lot. Enzo (as in Enzo Ferrari) is the dog. He tells the story.

Basically, Enzo and the dude start out really happy. Then he gets married, she and Enzo aren't BFF, they have a kid and Enzo swears to protect her, then all sorts of bad stuff happens. Racing, especially racing in the rain is supposed to be metaphorical...but he loses. It's like he threw that bit in there as some sort of plot device, but it could have just as easily been called The Art of Baking a Cake with a Crappy Oven or The Art of Riding a Bike on Gravel. I don't know if he was trying to make people interested in the sport, or what. But I found the references (and explanations to the references) unnecessary.

There was also some metaphorical bit about a crazy zebra. And how there's a murderous zebra in all of us. Or something.

I get that the story is told from a dog, and Enzo explains to us that he is a very special dog, and hopes to be reincarnated as a person. But really? REALLY? I love my dog. She is awesome. But she is a dog. She needs love and attention, food and water, shelter and a comfy bed. Or elbow, like right now. Other than a few choice words, she does not understand English. Obviously, she would make a terrible narrator.

So if you get rid of the doggy narrator, can the cheesy racing references, you're left with a very crappy story. Personal preference, I suppose. But this is one of those stories where EVERYTHING bad happens, but then resolves itself before the book ends. There really wasn't so much a plot to the book as there was a premise. Perhaps I've been spoiled by thrilling books with twists and turns, but it is all so predictable.

Oh, and then the dog dies at the end. I'm not giving anything away...the whole story is a flashback and if you read I think the very first page that ending will be obvious. My beef about that? It was specifically designed to tug at my heartstrings and make me cry. There is little I hate more[2] than being manipulated by a crappy book/movie into crying. Crying at a good book can be almost a pleasurable experience; cathartic, really. In this case, however, I was simply reminded of my own dog's mortality, and as she is 3 years old and my first dog ever I am not quite ready to think about her getting old. And thus the waterworks.

Now after seeing how much I hated this book but seeing how many other people seem to think it's magnificent, Tjett has decided to write his own sappy dog-based novel.

Anyway, that's all I've got. If you like predictable, manipulative books with details that are supposed to make the book somehow interesting, I bet you'd love it. Otherwise, stay away. You want a good dog-based book? Try James Herriot, or decide on a different species and re-read The Black Stallion or Black Beauty. You want a racing book? Steve Matchett. A predictable and sappy book about love and circumstances? I'm positive there are better ones[3].

[1]I'll watch the races. I'll nap in the middle. I'll not feel bad about doing either.
[2] Such as Nickelback.
[3] Or maybe it turns out I just hate the genre. Yep, that could be it too. OH except I didn't hate Bridges of Madison County. That's a good one.

ETA: You want a good dog-story that makes tears run down your face? Allie over at Hyperbole and a Half just (finally!) posted another winner. Go here.

Surgery Post II: Pleasant Surprises

I had my appendix out when I was 10. While that wasn't exactly the highlight of my childhood, I think that having that experience made me a little less apprehensive about having this surgery. For example, I remembered that even if you were lucky enough to sleep well, nurses still came in to wake you every every 4 hours to check your vitals. I also wasn't surprised when I didn't keep down Jello and water. Thankfully though, there were a few things that I was either expecting to be awesome and WAS, or that I was dreading and it wasn't a big deal!

• The IV. The IV before went in my hand, but they put it in after I was out from the gas. All I know is that while it was in, my wrist hurt really bad and they had to put a splint on, rendering my hand useless. I was not looking forward to it. Well, this time around they put it in my arm, a couple inches below the wrist. Putting it in wasn't horrible, and I could actually use my hand without pain. One of the most painful parts of my previous trip to the hospital was when they took the IV out...this time, no problem. The area is still a little tender/bruised...but I'll take it.
• Anesthesia. Anesthesia, for me, is a trip. It's so much fun. When I was 10, they just gave me the gas, but I was looking forward to it from when I had my wisdom teeth out. It did not disappoint! You know on the edges of fluorescent lights, there are sometimes little round, plastic 'caps'? I really don't know how to explain them any better. Regardless, I definitely saw them fall. I asked the kind nurses/surgical staff if that was actually happening. "No Katie, that's just the anesthesia. The room will get kind of spinny." I looked around..."Nope, none of the rest of the room is spinning. Are you sure they're not actually falling?" Out.
• The Sore Throat. Coming out of appendix surgery, I was not surprised that my abdomen was sore. What DID surprise me was the super-duper sore throat. I was informed that it was because of the breathing tube that they used during surgery, that they didn't tell me about because if I knew about it, I would resist it (not totally sure how that would work considering I was passed out...). So I expected it this time. And I'm pretty sure they mentioned something about a breathing tube, so I was fully expecting to have a sore throat and eat lots of popsicles. Surprise, surprise...no sore throat! Huzzah!
• The Shot. I couldn't tell you what it was for, but following the appendectomy they gave me the most painful shot I've ever had in my life. Right in my thigh. I was very very very happy that that was not repeated.
• The Blowy Thingy. I think it was to ensure that you got all the anesthesia out of your lungs. I remember having to periodically blow...or actually no, I think I had to inhale...from this weird contraption. Lung capacity or something? The air tasted bad through all the tubes and made me cough. Following abdominal surgery, this was not fun. I realize that following foot surgery, it should not be a big deal. But I still didn't want to do it. Imagine my panic when my Parkland College nursing student, Tammi, asked if I had that yet. Apparently it's on every surgery patient's orders...but no one actually does it. Which is totally cool with me. I was getting all the oxygen I needed, and that's all that mattered to me.