Kockroach, by Tyler Knox

The tale I am about to relate is most undoubtedly true. The memory of it still manages to send chills down my spine, despite the fact that the following events happened over twenty years ago. The moment remains seared into my memory as though with a hot iron, driving into me a deep, irrational fear that is with me to this day.

It had been a day like any other. I sat, still blessedly innocent and unaware, playing in my bedroom. A light breeze moved the curtains and sounds of the city wafted gently through my window. I could hear the bleats and whirrs of passing cars, and the shouts of children (those who actually – I shudder at the thought – played outside) could also be heard.

Loose Girl: A Memoir of Promiscuity, by Kerry Cohen

Like all bibliophiles, I have my pet peeves when it comes to books. One such peeve involves the dust jackets which accompany hardcover books. In general I find them annoying, and never do I read with them on -- they get all flimsy and wonky and they're just generally a pain in the ass. Needless to say, immediately upon reading a hardcover book, the first thing I do is remove the dust jacket and store it atop a bookshelf in my library. Priorities, and all that.

Larryisms: Book One, by Larry John

For the record, Larry John seems like a nice guy. He seems like the type who could swig back a few beers, tell a few stories, and eat so much off the grill that you feel like an anorexic supermodel standing next to him. And to that I say: Bravo, Larry John.

However, a good drinking buddy does not a good author make, so I’m just gonna call this one like I see it right from the get-go: at best, this is a bathroom book, plain and simple. At worst, well, it’s a waste of money, but I got it for free, so no worries on my end.

Lady of the Roses, by Sandra Worth

I usually begin reading historical fiction with some trepidation. My brain automatically associates the term “historical fiction” with hokey covers, bad writing, and long, boring passages designed to educate the reader. Aaron Hamburger, in his article for Poets & Writers entitled "The Pitfalls of Historical Fiction" hits the mark when he writes that "too often, works of historical fiction suffer from what Henry James called 'fatal cheapness' – moments of crude, awkward writing and oversimplified representation of both history and literature."

The Invention of Morel, by Adolfo Bioy Casares

The Invention of Morel has been getting a lot of attention recently due to its appearance on Lost. I don’t watch Lost, so don’t expect any great revelations about how Morel explains the show. By the way, are they still on that damn island? I only watch quality television, like Big Brother 9. I like my tv with a side of brainlessness, thank you very much.

The Invention of Morel begins as our unnamed protagonist, a fugitive from the law, hides on an uninhabited island. One day, mysterious tourists suddenly appear, and our fugitive is frightened they have come searching for him. He needn’t have feared, however; it’s clear they are unaware of him.

Immortal, by Traci L. Slatton

If you had been gifted with an abnormally long lifespan, how would you spend your time? It is lofty to imagine spending your days in the pursuit of knowledge or beauty, but I imagine I’d probably do a whole lotta dicking around, just like I do now. When you account for the state of the world, the environment, my own vices, etc., I figure I have about a week left to live, and yet I STILL can’t tear myself away from my playstation 3. However, don't say I'm not making progress in life: I'll have you know I've graduated from the "easy" level and currently play Guitar Hero on medium.

King Dork, by Frank Portman

Nothing defined my teenage years like depressing music and good books, and I know that nearly everyone can agree that music is never better than when you’re in high school. I spent my teens listening to Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson and feeling as though these heroin-addicted men truly understood my adolescent female torment, as evidenced by such classic tunes like "Cake and Sodomy."

The Long Walk, by Stephen King

Okay, let me get something out of the way. I do a lot of cardio. A LOT of cardio. I walk, run, whatever, at least five times a week. And I can say unequivocally, without a doubt, that I would be the first mothereffer issued a ticket if I were a contestant in Stephen King’s The Long Walk.