Book Excerpt for the Day

    What you do recall, and recall vividly, is that in the June of your twelfth year, your mom, emulating her poetic idol, Sylvia somebody, turned the oven on and stuck her head in it.  Unfortunately, or fortunately, as the case might be, she was guilty of an embarrassing oversight.  Your family had an electric stove.

    Instead of gassing herself into sweet oblivion, all she did was get unbearably hot and set her hair on fire.  An awful odor filled the flat.  When you crawled out of bed to see what the smell was about, she was kneeling in the middle of the kitchen, smoking like a smudge pot, while your father emptied a jug of red wine on her head.

(from Half Asleep In Frog Pajamas by Tom Robbins)


7½*/10.  The full review is here.