A Fucked Up Life in Books

A FUCKED UP LIFE IN BOOKS
Anonymous

To Boy, love from Stumpy

Table of Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Introduction

Childhood and school

Owl at Home

Mr Meddle’s Muddles

Burglar Bill

Thelwell’s Riding Academy

Flight of Dragons

Goosebumps

Grimms’ Fairytales

The Silver Brumby

The Diary of Adrian Mole

Angela’s Ashes

Stark

The Caucasian Chalk Circle

Birdsong

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Wizard’s First Rule

Liverpool Daisy

Towards Tomorrow

Teenage years and university

Beloved

A Game of You

The Princess Bride

Howards End

Stone of Tears

Wild Swans

The Dice Man

The Lord of the Rings

Trainspotting

Lolita

Smoke and Mirrors

The Da Vinci Code

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales

Confessor

Guards! Guards!

Nineteen Eighty-Four

A proper grown-up

A Prayer for Owen Meany

A Hell on Earth

The Eye of the World

A Wild Sheep Chase

Delta of Venus

Twilight

The Godfather

Beowulf

Memoirs of a Geisha

A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian

Dragon’s Gold

Brick Lane

Persepolis

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Glamorama

A Game of Thrones

The Master and Margarita

The Periodic Table

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

How To Be a Woman

A Dance with Dragons

All My Friends Are Superheroes

Copyright

About the Publisher

Introduction

I started writing a blog because I wanted to talk about books anonymously. The reason I did it anonymously was because I didn’t, and still don’t really, think that I am at all clever or insightful enough to have decent opinions on books. If I love them, I can’t really tell you why; and if I hate them I tend to just swear a lot and get frustrated. The best and most fitting anonymous name that I could think of for me was BookCunt. I fucking love books and I have a cunt. Job done.

The first book I reviewed was The Tiny Wife by Andrew Kaufman that had been given to me by a friend. After I reviewed that I didn’t really know what else to do. I didn’t have any other new books to review, and no one really knew about the blog so I wasn’t getting sent any review copies by anyone, so I posted a story about the time that a man chased me down the street because of Isaac Asimov. People liked it, they thought it was funny. And it was easy to write because it was true. It had happened just before I left to go to university as I was hanging around in town trying to find a job to make some money so that when I got to university I had some money to piss away. So, I asked my (ten or so) followers on Twitter what they wanted from the blog; did they want book reviews or did they want stories? And they all said stories, which was fine by me because I had a fucking shitload in my head just ready to tell. I carried on with reviews, as I started to get authors and publishers sending me things to read, but every Saturday I’d post a story of something that had happened to me.