Reading Shatter by Michael Robotham. Fairly tawdry although it pretends not to be.
It's about this guy who forces women to jump off buildings, naked in fancy shoes--the women not the buildings. He does this through psychological torture for he is the master manipulator and a humble English psychiatrist must match wits with this man to stop him.
Very sensitive psychiatrist and the writing attempts to be understated, but you can't fool me! Tawdry! Tawdry! Tawdry!
Also well written and suspenseful.
But isn't that why books suck? They draw you into their morbid little world and then they eat you. Unless they're about fairies or angels, but even the ones about fairies and angels are annoying. Too many spirit guides saying stuff like: I shall wrap thee in a warm blanket of puppies if ye shall follow my goo.
Reading is a stupid habit! Get up go for a walk. Exercise, you lazy fuck. Don't waste your life looking over words like a worm.
Not to be critical, just a suggestion.
Today though, I actually feel better. I've been getting the winter blues and snapping at Mrs. Warpsludge somewhat awfully and she hasn't been in such a good mood herself, but now, I'm in control and mellow and feel things will be fine.Perhaps it's the Rainbow Light vitamins I've started taking. Perhaps it's the book I'm writing. Perhaps it's just time and my desire to feel better attracting good feelings. In any case, I don't fully understand why I'm happier, but I'm happy about it.