Late Summer Reads

I couldn't attend book club this morning because I was at work.  I'm as disappointed about missing the opportunity to eat breakfast at Cafe Brazil with my girlfriends as I am about not being in on the discussion of this book:

Marching Powder is a non-fiction book co-written by Thomas McFadden, a former prisoner at La Paz's San Pedro Prison, and Rusty Young, the journalist who stumbled upon him there (and subsequently spent months living in the prison in order to secretly record Thomas's stay at a jail unlike any you've ever heard of or seen (if you've seen a prison)).  Though non-fiction can sometimes be dry or too information-based for my liking, this book read so much like a fictional story that I often had to remind myself while reading that the events detailed are, in fact, absolutely true.  Parts of the book were difficult to read, but those same parts gave the story credibility and authenticity.  The events, after all, really did play out in one man's life while he was incarcerated ... nobody would expect it to be all roses.  McFadden's story is nothing less than truly fascinating, and I'm so glad he told it.

This past month I also finally got around to reading this masterpiece:

I borrowed Water for Elephants from my mom's shelf when we were in MN last month.  Practically everyone I know had already read it, and once I started seeing previews for the movie version featuring Reese Witherspoon, I knew I needed to take time to read the acclaimed story if I ever hoped to see the movie.  I was not disappointed.  I loved WfE from the moment I opened it.  Although also hard to read at times, everything from the glitz and glamour to the grit and grime that defined the classes in this historically-based story was entirely captivating.  The characters were so well developed, and I found myself internalizing and relating with their stories and their struggles.  My emotions ran the gamut while reading, and I simply couldn't put it down.  If you haven't read this book yet, it's time.  You will love it. 

When I'd finished the two books above, I was without a new book to start and went asking for suggestions.  I actually only asked one person, my sister, and she - between laughs and eye rolls - recommended this classy tell-all:

In my sister's words, the author of I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is basically a huge DB who wrote about his drunken escapades and the resulting - ahem - conquests that took place during his college and law school years.  If anything about the title or description of this book has the potential to offend you in even the most remote way, this book is definitely not for you.  I was able to appreciate tolerate this book because a) I'm an open-minded person, and b) my friends and I spent a lot of time in college hanging around frat guys.  Still, though they had me laughing (and often cringing), even I was nowhere close to prepared for Tucker Max's stories.  Read at your own risk ... don't say I didn't warn you: this book is not for the faint of heart (or the morally sound, for that matter).

Happy Reading!