So now I know why Amazon offers to send you a sample of an ebook before you buy it. It’s to prevent people like me from buying books like this. I’m so far off the target audience for the book that what should be making me laugh and grin is making me groan, page forward rapidly in the spurious hope that things might get better and then close the book, put my head in my hands and go, ‘Why did I do this to myself?’.
Humour is like that. It works or it doesn’t and for me, this doesn’t. I’m sure people will find it funny. Possibly the same people who would choose to binge watch ‘Top Gear’ with their mates over a few bottles of beer with names like ‘Sick Puppy’ Pale Ale’ while sharing a takeaway delivered by some poor sod on a bicycle whose bosses claim he doesn’t work for them but is actually a gig economy entrepreneur.
Our hero is a manboy who thinks he’s reached his peak experience when his thrill-seeking see-how-crazy-I-am? I’m-deliberately-not-wearing-panties-under-the-Prada-dress-you-bought-me girlfriend unzips him as he drives his Porsche at 90mph along a motorway. I mean, does life get any better than that? Well, no, unless you’re not a fourteen-year-old-boy fantasising about what you want to be when you grow up.
As you might have sensed by now, manboys don’t bring out the best in me, so when this manboy learns that he has an inoperable brain tumour that might kill him at any moment, my response isn’t ‘How tragic. Poor thing. How will he cope?’ It’s ‘Perhaps there is a God after all.’
So I’m setting this aside because I not only don’t like the main character, I don’t like who I become when I unleash my dislike of the main character.