This was novel, what, #6 for 2007? That's quite a record for me, and luckily I've yet to be disappointed. For a work that was decidedly not linear, I never found myself lost. It was like the 500 sections were puzzle pieces, detailed enough so that you could see the whole picture without having to put those pieces together. ( )

Wierd wierd wierd.
Written in single paragraph numbered "chapters", this diary-like tale of Money (don't ask) Breton and her life is almost compulsive.
What is up with her? Is this a decent into madness?
Sparsely written, this odd book is about Money, her nocturnal drives through the South, her sad children: Mev, a methodone addict who can't hold down a job and son Paulie who is under the witness protection program for a sexual crime. ( )

1.
In a phrase: An ADD tour de force. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like—ADD, I mean—read it and weep.

2.
Two hundred pages; 536 sections. All over the friggin’ place.

3.
And funny. Did I mention funny?

4.
Yeah.

5.
She has meds, but isn’t taking enough. Money, that is. Money Breton has meds. Her kids are in trouble, she’s got too many exes, her boyfriends are pretty dopey, and she’s not yet been fired from another job from Hell: scripting a TV show. Ouch! ( )