I wasn’t sure about this book before I opened it. The title is a bit weird, do I really want to know what happens before I start? The synopsis was all over the place. But what the hell, I want to know what all of the fuss is about.
I’ll tell you, the foreword by Don Coscarelli piqued my interest; by the time I finished the preface I was having a great time; then the prologue had me completely hooked. I knew that I was in for a ride unlike anything I had ever read before. David Wong breaks barriers and conventions and reconfirms my theory that inside every grown man lives an eleven-year-old boy.
John Dies at the End is written in a peculiar style. It came across to me as though David Wong was telling me about his adventures with John, Amy, and their meddling dog, Molly. He rambles, goes off topic and, generally speaking, goes through Albuquerque on a trip from Detroit to Chicago. It was juvenile…and I loved damn near every minute of it. I was constantly highlighting passages that had to be shared with my wife – she was a bit overwhelmed with all of the penis.
John Dies at the End might not be for everyone, but I went into it at exactly the right time and place. I wanted something light and fun, and this book was perfect. I’ll be sure to find time for more from David Wong.
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