Broken Piano For President

http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Piano-President-Patrick-Wensink/dp/1621050203

Don’t you hate it when authors write their own product description and use phrases like “a comic masterpiece” or they compare themselves to whatever author they’d read before working on their novel? I know I do. Mr. Reznor does it here to great aplomb. Wait, I meant Mr. Wensink. Sorry, I thought he was the guy from NIN. Just like I thought his novel was a bottle of Jack Daniels. Color me dying for a drink of whiskey. Especially after reading this Amazon preview.

It’s every indie author’s dream, innit? For something they write to go viral, as John Rzeznik from the Goo Goo Dolls’ novel did. Ah, did it again. Patrick Wensink. Him. He’s the guy who received the “World’s Nicest Cease and Desist” from Jack Daniels (it says so in bold letters right at the beginning of the product description) because the cover to his novel too closely resembled their frankly mediocre whiskey. Said novel, Broken Dreams For Breakfast, would have otherwise been just another unremarkable small press waste of time. Anyway, if your crappy little indie novel goes viral somehow, your book sales will skyrocket into the triple digits instead of the fifty or so you sell to your family, friends, and whoever is on that forum you post in. But they’ll buy anything.

Broken Condom For Prom Night isn’t exactly a bad book, it’s just not very good either. At all. There’s another thing it’s not, and that’s funny. But blogger, you may say, what about all of the reviews and blurbs purporting it to be “A laugh out loud, thought-provoking novel.” or “Like Christopher Moore on very strong acid.  In Broken Piano For President, he’s created a Pynchonesque universe…A rollicking good time of a novel.”? Well, dear reader, they’re “lying”. Then there are five star reviews from people named Pterodactyl Samurai or Sir Ethan of Potatolamp, who are obviously his absurdist bizarro buddies. Damn you, bizarro, you’re a subgenre I’ll get to another time.

I think Broken Nose For Rihanna is about this guy who gets blackout drunk (LOL) and creates revolutionary, groundbreaking cheeseburgers and now the fast-food mafia is after him or something. Ah the fast-food mafia, arch-rivals of the Amish mafia. The novel starts off talking to us, the readers, which I suppose should be clever but it’s not. It’s annoying and kind of a filler. In fact, this book is full of fillers. Did I mention it’s nearly 400 pages long? Anyhonk, the book moves on to chapter two (I think it’s chapter two) and we’re still not done being spoken to by the novel. Apparently we’re hungover, which is why we chose to read a FOUR HUNDRED PAGE LONG “comedic” novel.

Next we finally meet Deshler Dean, a truly original archetype in modern literature. He drinks a lot (absurd!), he’s a smart-ass (truly avant-garde), and he woke up next to a corpse (never heard that one before, said no detective novelist ever). There are some strange turns of phrase and some perplexing metaphors here. Christ, can there be a college class specifically to teach metaphors and similes? They’re all so bad and nobody knows how to write them.

“That thin sheet of ice gets watery at the edges, white crystals evolving to something invisible.”

Like what? Everything that’s invisible looks like everything else that’s invisible. It looks INVISIBLE.

“frisking his zipper”

I don’t know what that is and I don’t want to find out.

“He rubs both eyes like a mirage, but this isn’t the desert.” 

I’m not a writer, but I play one on Amazon.

“The drums are roadside bombs and the guitar squeals like 747 tires touching down.”

Does anyone else hate themselves yet? Remember, this goes on for FOUR HUNDRED PAGES. I hope somewhere in all of those pages, humor makes an appearance. I certainly don’t see any in the preview and I’ll apologize on the author’s behalf if you actually bought the entire book.

Inbetwixt all of those metaphors and similes are equally mind-grinding descriptions of Dean being hungover, obviously written by someone who’s never been TRULY hungover. Or never been TRULY a writer. Author Pete Wentz has accomplished quite a feat in writing several novels though, something most indie authors can’t claim. So I’ll give him credit for that one. Ah! Sorry, that’s the hot one from Fallout Boy, not Mr. Wensink, who wrote this book.

How about some more strange descriptions and shitty metaphors? YOU GOT IT, DUDE.

“Our hero is a sliver of gristle and a mushroom cloud of hair.”

I’m sorry, what? Is that a physical description? What is a “mushroom cloud of hair”?

“Dollar beers are how people wake up next to dead people.”

Yeah, maybe if you live in West Virginia or Missouri or something. But that might have been a joke? I don’t get it.  Anybody?

“Dean’s teeth attack his fingernails.”

You know, sometimes it’s okay to just write what someone’s doing. Every sentence doesn’t have to be clever and original. “Dean bites at his nails” would have been more effective and less pretentious.

Then guess what? The dead woman next to Dean isn’t actually dead. I think. The author switches to someone named Henry next, who hopefully is funny. Hold on, I’ll check for you. Nope, not funny. He just wanders around a room or something, excruciatingly describing everything in a strange and shitty way, much like the first of the book. But his cheeks glow like jellybeans, apparently. Aw, how cute. Jellybeans. This is what I mean when I say there should be a college course specifically about writing metaphors. There has to be one. Please let there be one. Otherwise this will NEVER end.

“Once a bun, always a bun.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

Henry kills this burger baron he was interviewing with and then things get truly kooky. A burger baron being assassinated?? But why, that’s so silly! Also, Henry is disgusting and needs a shower. I think?

Then we’re back to Dean dealing with the dead woman who’s not dead anymore. This is a device that could have been hilarious, if it were in the hands of a more deft writer like Christopher Moore or Pynchon. Instead it’s written away by pretentious metaphors and lengthy, daunting descriptions that only serve to show off Herzog’s immeasurable talent. Silly me, I meant to say Wensick. Wensink. I give up.

Look, I think you get the point here. There are too many characters and too many things going on for one author to handle. This draining prose goes on in Amazon’s preview for page after page (it’s a long preview, I couldn’t get through it) and then it goes on even longer if you purchased the whole book. I really hope you didn’t. I know this book shot to the top of Amazon because of a little bit of press but that doesn’t mean it’s worth reading. Do yourself a favor and buy yourself some Maker’s Mark instead. Get it? Maker’s Mark is symbolic of a better novel. Because of the original cover to the book? Get it? The cover Jack Daniels politely didn’t like? HAhahahahahahahhaha……

Gateway: A Story About Chaotic Harmony

Look! You don’t even have to read the book to know how bad the writing is. Just have a look-see at his self-written bio. I’ve emboldened the choice bits.

Throughout my life I’ve had a passion for writing stories. Writing stories from my imagination and letting my words flow through my hand on a blank sheet of paper let me create my own worlds. In 2007 I attended a fiction class at the University of Missouri. Most of the people in my class were only worried about their grades and weren’t passionate about writing. My teacher quickly saw that I stood out from the class after reading a story I wrote called ‘Chemicals’, the story of a lost boy in a lost generation. The fiction teacher helped me pursue my talent and arranged for me to take a couple honors classes at the Pierre Laclede Honors College at UMSL. The classes I took in the honors school pushed me to create new stories each week, and also gave me the chance to read other students stories and critique their work. I loved having my writings critiqued each week; it helped me grow as a writer. There was always this calling in my heart to show my stories I created to the world. The concept of writing a book seemed impossible; I was always unmotivated by the negativity around me. When I’d tell people I was writing a book they didn’t take me seriously or they figured it’d never amount to anything. I loved writing stories and creating new worlds; it was my escape from my day to day life. Even with the world around me telling me the book would go nowhere; I continued my journey and finished Gateway. Everyone has a dream of where they want their life to take them; my dream is to become a successful author.

Your best bet is to go back to sleep, Mr. Erlichson. Or go back to your day job stocking shelves at Wal-mart. Just kidding, I’ve never been in a Wal-mart.

Did you zone out after the first “couple sentences”? I know I did. Good God, reading that was worse than hearing him speak. You know that episode of The Office where Michael imitates Toby? That’s what Joel sounds like. This sharp young talent was featured on MTV’s True Life in an episode titled “I’m Working With My zzzzzzzzzzzzzz”. To be honest, the only reason I watched the episode was for Joel, a brain-dead, emotionless Aspergers victim. Are they “victims”? Aspergers folks?

Anywhat, I just wanted to see more of Joel pushing his little novel here. He first somehow convinced his relatively attractive ex girlfriend to go out with him in the first place. Then he somehow convinced her to help him self-publish something that reads like his high school journal. Take a look at the cover. Really look at it, I’ll wait.

All I want to know is, me-OW, who’s the model on the cover? It’s definitely not our Joel. But onto his chaotic, harmonic…stuff.

The first mistake is switching from past tense to present tense for no real reason at all except that in the first paragraph, our intriguing protagonist must vaguely describe himself as douchey and built. He really uses the word “built” too. That’s all we get, he’s a built wanker with gauges in his ears like that asshole who lives upstairs from me and plays guitar on the balcony at 3am.

Then he’s got a bag of blow. Blow blow blow. There are other words for cocaine, Mr. Elrichson. Well, he thought it might be meth but to his understanding, it’s BLOW.

Are you a writer yourself, dear reader? Is your story not interesting enough? Well have I got a solution for you. Put some drugs in your story. You’ll be amazed at the level of intrigue this will add to your tale. But wait, there’s zzzzzzzzzzzz

Next, our narrator (let’s call him “Joem”) is going to a birthday dinner at Olive Garden. Olive Garden. But Joem first has to overcome his first obstacle in Gateway: A Story About Chaotic Harmony: should he do some BLOW first? He struggles with this for about a second, then the BLOW enters his nasal passage “like a fresh gust of air”. Ah yes, that’s EXACTLY what diesel fuel/baby laxative-cut cocaine feels like entering the sensitive cavity of your nostril. Fresh air.

Then his heart “begins to echo”. Here’s what it sounds like: “Thump thump thump!”

“Thump thump thump!” his heart echoes.

“Thump thump thump!” his heart screams.

Then Joem the Douche sits and pouts at Olive Garden because his dad always has to be on time. This just RUINS Joem’s birthday dinner at Olive Garden. They didn’t even sing to him!

“Thump thump thump!”

Is there and echo in here?

Finally, Joem gets home and gets to do more BLOW. This time it enters his nose with an adrenaline push that opens “the world of rush” into his veins. Now we meet “Lex”, Joem’s gay pornstar boyfriend or something, I wasn’t really reading. But Joem’s body screams “more more more!” and his heart echoes “thump thump thump!” and they do some more BLOW.

“NOW ENTERING A WORLD OF RUSH!”

Then there’s a guy named Bruiser. Some more BLOW. Something about a community college. Lex sips vodka and cranberry and misses being young.

Good God. Joem’s heart echoes some more and everyone speaks to each other using exclamation points! Like this one! And this one!

Let’s not forget the dialogue like “WHERE ARE THE FUCKING GOODS?!?” or “Shut the fuck up holmes! I’ll cut your fucking eyes out and you won’t see shit again if you say another fucking word I didn’t ask you to speak!” but the thing is, that line was spoken by Joem, WHO HAD JUST ASKED HIM A QUESTION.

“HA HA HA!” we laugh hard.

So finally our intriguing protagonist meets a girl. They watched a movie but lost track of the plot because they were talking to each other. I’m betting Joem was doing all of the talking though, because WAPNER IN THIRTY MINUTES!

Joem was wearing a shirt with a funky design and funky writing on it (I have one of those!) and his future rape victim “starred” at it with her neck “perked”. Then they made out but “it never lead to anything more”. Ooga booga. Joem wants to take it slow and just do some BLOW.

I could make all of this criticism constructive and show Joel Elrichson how to improve on his craft but I think a better option for him is to give up on “that whole writing thing” and focus on being a reality TV star instead. Then he can do all of the BLOW he wants to do.