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Vegas Knockout: a novel in stories
The fight of the century is almost here, and everyone in Sin City feels the buzz. The young journalist on the make. The lovesick con man. The rich man’s daughter with a very dirty secret. The king of Vegas nightlife. A clown who wants waffles. As the frenzy builds and the stakes—financial, emotional, moral—get higher, these and other indelible Vegas characters will put everything on the line. In these linked stories, the one and only P Moss shows you a darker, wilder, more uproarious side of this neon paradise.
178 pages, Paperback
First published August 30, 2012
About the author
P. Moss
13 books51 followersP Moss is an author whose books and short stories offer a twisted view of life away from the spotlight. He is also a musician and songwriter whose band Bloodcocks UK, the only American band never to play in America, recently completed a seventh sold out tour of Japan. A film noir and pulp fiction enthusiast, he is also a prominent name in the nightlife world as owner of the popular Double Down Saloons in Las Vegas and New York City, as well as Frankie's Tiki Room in Las Vegas.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
nevermind
August 8, 2016DNF
UGH. Why do I torture myself trying to read books set in Las Vegas?
I'll tell you why. I don't see many Las Vegas stories that don't involve gambling, bets, prostitution, or high-class resorts. That's the crux of this place, but it's so freaking BORING to me. I want to read my Las Vegas story. The closest I've come was with The Goldfinch, in which Donna Tartt managed to perfectly capture the suburban malaise of this place.
The guy who wrote this book is a "longtime Las Vegas insider." He owns the Double Down, a tiny little dive bar with horrible bathrooms, which I've been to once or twice, so that increased my interest in this. I figured he would capture some local color, and not just the facade everyone sees.
And he did, somewhat. In one of the stories there was a brief but scathing portrait of Green Valley residents that was so accurate it hurt. But then there was a story with surprise bestiality. And random rich tourists trying to pick up prostitutes. And a New York journalist getting sucked in to betting on a boxing match. So, it didn't seem any different than any other fiction I've ever read about my hometown.
The stories all revolve around the biggest boxing match of the century or whatever, which is one reason I lost interest in finishing this book. I don't fucking care about boxing. The other reason was the writing. It tried really hard to be all hard-boiled and edgy, but it just didn't work. Why in hell would you describe someone's crappy facial hair as "chin spinach"? Moreover, it didn't flow. The narrative was all over the place, jumping from character to character like it was a movie. A bad movie.
Yes, there are slot machines everywhere, including many of the grocery stores and gas stations. And the airport. But seriously, there are people who just ignore these things. I guess nobody cares to read about THOSE people.
I should have known better.
When it comes to books, I never, ever know better.
*emotional sobbing*
UGH. Why do I torture myself trying to read books set in Las Vegas?
I'll tell you why. I don't see many Las Vegas stories that don't involve gambling, bets, prostitution, or high-class resorts. That's the crux of this place, but it's so freaking BORING to me. I want to read my Las Vegas story. The closest I've come was with The Goldfinch, in which Donna Tartt managed to perfectly capture the suburban malaise of this place.
The guy who wrote this book is a "longtime Las Vegas insider." He owns the Double Down, a tiny little dive bar with horrible bathrooms, which I've been to once or twice, so that increased my interest in this. I figured he would capture some local color, and not just the facade everyone sees.
And he did, somewhat. In one of the stories there was a brief but scathing portrait of Green Valley residents that was so accurate it hurt. But then there was a story with surprise bestiality. And random rich tourists trying to pick up prostitutes. And a New York journalist getting sucked in to betting on a boxing match. So, it didn't seem any different than any other fiction I've ever read about my hometown.
The stories all revolve around the biggest boxing match of the century or whatever, which is one reason I lost interest in finishing this book. I don't fucking care about boxing. The other reason was the writing. It tried really hard to be all hard-boiled and edgy, but it just didn't work. Why in hell would you describe someone's crappy facial hair as "chin spinach"? Moreover, it didn't flow. The narrative was all over the place, jumping from character to character like it was a movie. A bad movie.
Yes, there are slot machines everywhere, including many of the grocery stores and gas stations. And the airport. But seriously, there are people who just ignore these things. I guess nobody cares to read about THOSE people.
I should have known better.
When it comes to books, I never, ever know better.
*emotional sobbing*
Displaying 1 of 1 review