Diary by Chuck Palahniuk

I should have expected something rather psychologically twisting from the author of Fight Club, but instead I began reading with no expectations other than the hints that the cover of the book gave (bloody handwriting) and the few excerpts on the back. I knew the gist of the story, but WOW. This was beyond what I thought it would be.

While it was graphic in nature, it was necessary to the point of the story, to the increasingly claustrophobic tale of Misty Wilmot, and was therefore not burdensome. I won't write a plot summary because I think it would give away too much and ruin the story, but just know that everything is not simple and cannot be cured with two swigs of wine and two aspirin repeated throughout the day (Misty's chosen way of dealing with her unhappy life). The story wasn't frightening in the sense that horror movies are frightening, but it's an inescapable psychological battle that reveals itself and becomes the horrific point of the tale. I would not recommend this for the faint of heart, stomach or... well, just give yourself some breaks in between readings is all I can say. It was a struggle for me to get through because all I wanted to do was figure out what was going on and know what would come of Misty, but I definitely had to pull myself out of her world because it was really "messed up."

I don't know if the comparison to Vonnegut on the back of my copy is entirely accurate; this seems to go into a bit of a different direction. But certainly it was ruthless fiction and well worth the time. It was sick but enjoyable, and while I can see myself returning to more Palahniuk, it may be a while in the future before I'm ready for more. Just read it and you'll understand.