This book is...what's the opposite of chick lit? And don't say MAN lit, if "man lit" is a thing it's a genre only comprised of those Uncle John Bathroom Reader books and the memoirs of Tim Allen. I just mean that I would pay good money to see one of the ditzy (yet lovable) stiletto-clad heroines whose first world problems dominate those pastel-covered books enter the dark and grimy world Pollock created. Hi-larious hi-jinks would surely ensue!Deadly road trips, a blood-soaked prayer log, a predatory holy man, a crooked sheriff - no one in this book is a good person, everyone does horrible things, and you'll be left squirming like a preacher getting insects poured over his head (oh yeah, that happens too. I had to put the book in the freezer, Joey style, after that one).
4 sweaty, dirty men's undershirts out of 5. Ugh. Disgusting.
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