I actually do have a favorite book I read in school: A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving. An odd choice for an atheist, I know, but an excellent book in spite of it. I can’t really sum it up, so instead here’s a rant about John Irving’s other books.
Dear John Irving:
Please stop writing novels that suck. Owen Meany was awesome, but aside from it and The World According to Garp I have not even remotely enjoyed a single book of yours. They’re just too… strange, in a very nonsensical way, far too often. Characters wind up as, say, amputees, or in circuses, for no discernible reason. It’s irritating as shit, because the first half of the novel will be good and then you’ll just throw in the grotesque for the sake of it and everything goes downhill from there. Honestly, it’s almost as disappointing as the last 50 pages of every Stephen King novel ever, when he just decides to wrap everything up with Deus Ex Machina crap.
PS: The Cider House Rules was absolute garbage.