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100 Unfortunate Days
Warning: This book might not be for you.
It is dark, creepy, and written like a diary. Not for the faint of heart.
If you stumbled upon the diary of a stranger you might be compelled to read. If you stumbled upon the diary of a madwoman--how could you turn away?
"100 Unfortunate Days is a narcotic head-trip to the dark side of the narrator's mind. I've read books that gave me the creeps, read books that gave me nightmares, but until 100 Unfortunate Days, I'd never read a book that made me certain that the act of reading was inviting the attention of raw evil. Crowe delivers a blistering look into the furnace of madness, and does it with aplomb."
"Crowe has crafted a journal of 100 days that can make you laugh, sigh, and frown all in one "day". Theological, anti-spiritual, psychological, just plain weird... Crowe has a grasp of the reality and truth of this world and life that many others could never put into words - though they understand it to be true. 100 Unfortunate Days reads like the inner-workings of a dream - lyrical, powerful, and full of lessons, if you only know where to find them."
It is dark, creepy, and written like a diary. Not for the faint of heart.
If you stumbled upon the diary of a stranger you might be compelled to read. If you stumbled upon the diary of a madwoman--how could you turn away?
"100 Unfortunate Days is a narcotic head-trip to the dark side of the narrator's mind. I've read books that gave me the creeps, read books that gave me nightmares, but until 100 Unfortunate Days, I'd never read a book that made me certain that the act of reading was inviting the attention of raw evil. Crowe delivers a blistering look into the furnace of madness, and does it with aplomb."
"Crowe has crafted a journal of 100 days that can make you laugh, sigh, and frown all in one "day". Theological, anti-spiritual, psychological, just plain weird... Crowe has a grasp of the reality and truth of this world and life that many others could never put into words - though they understand it to be true. 100 Unfortunate Days reads like the inner-workings of a dream - lyrical, powerful, and full of lessons, if you only know where to find them."
- GenresHorror
153 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 30, 2011
9 people are currently reading
293 people want to read
About the author
Penelope Crowe
6 books54 followersPenelope Crowe was born in Venice on the forth of July, which meant nothing to anyone in Venice.
She was raised by the Queen's illegitimate sister Veronica who taught her how to put on make up and brew a delicious cup of coffee.
She slept at the cafe at night under the front window and wrote sad love songs until she met Jimmy Page and had his intitials tatooed under her finger.
She lived in Spain and painted her front door a different color every day.
Then she became an author and artist and sometimes hears the songs she wrote on the radio.
She was raised by the Queen's illegitimate sister Veronica who taught her how to put on make up and brew a delicious cup of coffee.
She slept at the cafe at night under the front window and wrote sad love songs until she met Jimmy Page and had his intitials tatooed under her finger.
She lived in Spain and painted her front door a different color every day.
Then she became an author and artist and sometimes hears the songs she wrote on the radio.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews
November 28, 2012
Today's Five STAR Have you ever read a book that scared you? As a horror writer, book reviewer and editor, I have read thousands of books. None have affected me as much as The Exorcist, and now, 100 Unfortunate Days.
Penelope Crowe has written an innocuous tale.....at first glance. A thought provoking story about a woman trapped in her own mind and who writes out her thought process day by day then takes us with her on this journey of a lost soul. She writes about life. Having babies and how depressing that is; how you feel you have wasted your life; how the world can be a crappy place at times. As a reader, you get the feeling the protagonist is depressed, maybe dealing with a more serious mental illness and you blow it off. But then you read an entry that hits too close to home. And you get a little uncomfortable. Because the author just wrote about something you thought at one point. It’s a little unnerving, but then the madness creeps in and we are okay. Because we are not mad. We are normal, everyday people caught up in our everyday lives. We do not have worms in our brains or think about robots living in our skin so we are fine.
Then a few entries later, the normal entries appear again. Like Day 29: “Here are some things I would do if I could go back to being 20 years old right now: join an art commune, write a book, kiss more men, kiss more women.”
I guess that’s why this book is so terrifying. It is raw with emotion and detail and normality. Things that everyone thinks about. Or did . And then on Day 38 she writes about possession and exorcism, Day 55, Kuru, Day 61, the end of the world. Interspersed is a rant about Oprah, which I thoroughly and secretly loved, the intricacies of romance and relationships, porn, philosophy and other interesting subjects.
This book was not horrifying and fraught with zombies and gore, but the horror here is of the more subtle kind. It is sneaky. You think you have finished reading a quaint novel and you put it out of your mind. Then you wake up in the middle of the night and glance at the clock, realizing it is 3 AM...........and is that something moving in the corner of the ceiling?
Penelope Crowe has written an innocuous tale.....at first glance. A thought provoking story about a woman trapped in her own mind and who writes out her thought process day by day then takes us with her on this journey of a lost soul. She writes about life. Having babies and how depressing that is; how you feel you have wasted your life; how the world can be a crappy place at times. As a reader, you get the feeling the protagonist is depressed, maybe dealing with a more serious mental illness and you blow it off. But then you read an entry that hits too close to home. And you get a little uncomfortable. Because the author just wrote about something you thought at one point. It’s a little unnerving, but then the madness creeps in and we are okay. Because we are not mad. We are normal, everyday people caught up in our everyday lives. We do not have worms in our brains or think about robots living in our skin so we are fine.
Then a few entries later, the normal entries appear again. Like Day 29: “Here are some things I would do if I could go back to being 20 years old right now: join an art commune, write a book, kiss more men, kiss more women.”
I guess that’s why this book is so terrifying. It is raw with emotion and detail and normality. Things that everyone thinks about. Or did . And then on Day 38 she writes about possession and exorcism, Day 55, Kuru, Day 61, the end of the world. Interspersed is a rant about Oprah, which I thoroughly and secretly loved, the intricacies of romance and relationships, porn, philosophy and other interesting subjects.
This book was not horrifying and fraught with zombies and gore, but the horror here is of the more subtle kind. It is sneaky. You think you have finished reading a quaint novel and you put it out of your mind. Then you wake up in the middle of the night and glance at the clock, realizing it is 3 AM...........and is that something moving in the corner of the ceiling?
June 19, 2012
Full disclosure: I started this book when I was laid up in the hospital, high on pain-killers, and recovering from a painful kidney stone (is there any other kind?). I’m not sure if that should predispose me to liking this story or hating it, but there is that factor. I mean, that said, as soon as I started the book, I began raving to my then-fiancee about the brilliance of what I was reading. I still stand by my statement.
I cut a lot of my real literary teeth on Beat writing. From Kerouac to Ginsberg to Ferlinghetti, I’ve chased down just about every bit of writing from that period, and went through my own period of trying to imitate their works. I think it informed a lot of my writing, and I still dream sometimes of doing a full-on beat-style novel, but I figured now is not the time to be so bold and experimental. I mean, why kill a career in its early stages, right?
Well, Penelope Crowe came along to prove me wrong – that this can be done well and effectively even in a modern context. Seriously, this could proudly stand with a lot of the better Beat works. Have you read William S. Burroughs? I know not many people would classify him as a horror writer, but there are some truly macabre visions in his writings, enough so that I always felt his works were close cousins to the genre, sort of the black sheep of the whole Beat era. For that reason, I find that his works resonated the longest in my soul, once I’d done the whole Kerouac/Ginsberg thing.
I say that because several times when reading 100 Unfortunate Days I got a legit Burroughs vibe. The book starts with such a thing, for God’s sake!:
"The pain behind my eye reminds me I have worms in my brain. Not a few, but millions. They have no room to multiply and either dying or boring their way to another part of my head. If a doctor were to ask me what my symptoms were I could say that there is pressure in my skull from an overpopulation of spirochetes. Sometimes I can’t think straight – and I get nervous."
Looking back, I can see now that Burroughs, at his best, evoked the same sense of existential dread that you hear from survivors of schizophrenia – the feeling of not being able to trust the very bedrock of reality upon which we all rely. And that absolutely fascinates me even while it hits the core of dread in my own soul. Crowe brilliantly mines that same material.
Be warned: the story, as such, is not really a story at all, in the traditional sense. There is something of a plot, but a lot of it has to be pieced together from trying to sort through the narrator’s statements and determining which are more likely to be true. In that sense, however, there is a protagonist and an antagonist, that antagonist being mental illness, and you won’t find a more insidious or terrifying monster.
Some people have said the book is too depressing, but I disagree; it’s not all existential dread and depression. There’s a sharp wit at work here, too, and I laughed out loud at a few parts. Parts of the book may be difficult for certain people to take (I hesitated before recommending it to a mentally ill friend for whom certain sections would ring very familiar), but if all of this sounds up your alley and you’re fascinated by peeks behind the curtain like this one, I recommend it.
I cut a lot of my real literary teeth on Beat writing. From Kerouac to Ginsberg to Ferlinghetti, I’ve chased down just about every bit of writing from that period, and went through my own period of trying to imitate their works. I think it informed a lot of my writing, and I still dream sometimes of doing a full-on beat-style novel, but I figured now is not the time to be so bold and experimental. I mean, why kill a career in its early stages, right?
Well, Penelope Crowe came along to prove me wrong – that this can be done well and effectively even in a modern context. Seriously, this could proudly stand with a lot of the better Beat works. Have you read William S. Burroughs? I know not many people would classify him as a horror writer, but there are some truly macabre visions in his writings, enough so that I always felt his works were close cousins to the genre, sort of the black sheep of the whole Beat era. For that reason, I find that his works resonated the longest in my soul, once I’d done the whole Kerouac/Ginsberg thing.
I say that because several times when reading 100 Unfortunate Days I got a legit Burroughs vibe. The book starts with such a thing, for God’s sake!:
"The pain behind my eye reminds me I have worms in my brain. Not a few, but millions. They have no room to multiply and either dying or boring their way to another part of my head. If a doctor were to ask me what my symptoms were I could say that there is pressure in my skull from an overpopulation of spirochetes. Sometimes I can’t think straight – and I get nervous."
Looking back, I can see now that Burroughs, at his best, evoked the same sense of existential dread that you hear from survivors of schizophrenia – the feeling of not being able to trust the very bedrock of reality upon which we all rely. And that absolutely fascinates me even while it hits the core of dread in my own soul. Crowe brilliantly mines that same material.
Be warned: the story, as such, is not really a story at all, in the traditional sense. There is something of a plot, but a lot of it has to be pieced together from trying to sort through the narrator’s statements and determining which are more likely to be true. In that sense, however, there is a protagonist and an antagonist, that antagonist being mental illness, and you won’t find a more insidious or terrifying monster.
Some people have said the book is too depressing, but I disagree; it’s not all existential dread and depression. There’s a sharp wit at work here, too, and I laughed out loud at a few parts. Parts of the book may be difficult for certain people to take (I hesitated before recommending it to a mentally ill friend for whom certain sections would ring very familiar), but if all of this sounds up your alley and you’re fascinated by peeks behind the curtain like this one, I recommend it.
December 12, 2011
This is one powerfully written book
100 Unfortunate Days is a fast read, a troubling read but also a great read.
From the first page of 100 Unfortunate Days you are transported instantly into the mind of the main character. It is a troubled mind. This is not a normal person. Then again, maybe it is. The personality of the main character instantly comes strongly through. While it is not a normal personality parts of it may be in people you know.
Penelope has a very consistent, crisp and clean writing style and I look forward to seeing more of her work - especially days 101-365 - if the narrator makes it to them.
I absolutely love the style of this book. I would highly recommend it, if you want something a little different and a wee bit dark. It is a stunning read.
100 Unfortunate Days is a fast read, a troubling read but also a great read.
From the first page of 100 Unfortunate Days you are transported instantly into the mind of the main character. It is a troubled mind. This is not a normal person. Then again, maybe it is. The personality of the main character instantly comes strongly through. While it is not a normal personality parts of it may be in people you know.
Penelope has a very consistent, crisp and clean writing style and I look forward to seeing more of her work - especially days 101-365 - if the narrator makes it to them.
I absolutely love the style of this book. I would highly recommend it, if you want something a little different and a wee bit dark. It is a stunning read.
December 1, 2013
This book read like the stream-of-consciousness diary of a woman losing her mind. I wasn't sure what I was getting into when I read it, and at first, I wasn't sure if it was fiction or the actual thoughts of someone suffering from mental illness. I thought, there's no story to this, but there is. It's buried in the ramblings. Strange and dark, this book left me with a heavy chill that wouldn't let me sleep even after I put it down. The spookiest part was that some of this madwoman's thoughts echoed feelings I've had myself. It was really frightening because it made me wonder if I was the one losing my mind. It is real horror, and real art. It's the only thing like it I have ever read. If you are a horror fan, this is sure to frighten you, because it's about the darkness that lurks in us all.
October 9, 2011
There are books that touch your soul. Books that make you think. Books that are so eloquently written, so inside the narrator's mind, that you forget where you start and the book begins. Crowe has crafted a journal of 100 days that can make you laugh, sigh, and frown all in one "day". Theological, anti-spiritual, psychological, just plain weird... Crowe has a grasp of the reality and truth of this world and life that many others could never put into words - though they understand it to be true. 100 Unfortunate Days reads like the inner-workings of a dream - lyrical, powerful, and full of lessons, if you only know where to find them. This is exactly the kind of book that when I finished, I thought to myself, "damn, I wish I had wrote this." Well done, and another author to watch!
January 29, 2013
I’ve tried and tried to think of how to explain this book and I just can’t seem to come up with anything that accurately describes this story, or is it a story? It’s a 100 days of haunting thoughts of a women in trouble. Some of them seem lucid and others aren’t, I wondered about her life does she appear ‘normal’ on the outside to everyone, is she able to function so no one notices how troubled she is?
It’s dark, scary and it terrified me that this woman could be any one of us.....even me.
December 31, 2017
When I first started this book I hated it. It made no sense. Then I got frustrated and started from the beginning and this time really read what was written. And wow. Scary, dark because it is so real. Not for everybody, possibly not for most but it is a really insightful read.
March 11, 2012
From my blog www.pauldail.com- A horror writer's not necessarily horrific blog
The narrator of 100 Unfortunate Days starts out by telling us, “The pain behind my eye reminds me I have worms in my brain.”
The first time I heard of spirochetes was in Vonnegut’s introduction to Breakfast of Champions, where he talks about the corkscrew bacteria which afflict poor souls in the last stages of syphilis. It is an image which stuck with me. A little research will tell you that this particular phylum of bacteria can be the cause of anything from relapsing fever to Lyme disease.
But the reader of Crowe’s book isn’t quite sure what to believe. Is this woman actually afflicted with some sort of physical illness, or is she just letting a mental illness get away with her? Does she really have something that is causing these thoughts? Or did she perhaps read, as I did, something that made her suspect her brain had actually been infested?
Now this was just Day One, but the question of what the narrators perceives as reality stays with the reader for most of the story. But let it be noted early on, “story” is a tricky term to use. This is, after all, simply 100 days in her life. And life doesn’t always have a coherent storyline (but more on that later).
However, for this particular reader, in those 100 days was a writer’s paradise. What will probably come off as schizophrenic for many readers (probably the author’s intent) was rich material for me full of possibilities. Many spots reminded me of my post, A day in the mind of a horror writer. Of course, I’ve often questioned my own sanity, so this narrator frequently felt like an old friend.
Having said that, this reflects perhaps not so much a complaint, but rather a disappointment I had with 100 Unfortunate Days. I understand this is not my creation, but there were so many possible story ideas, so many possible directions that I wanted things to go for the narrator, but these ideas didn’t usually materialize much past the day they were written. Crowe kept dropping these beautiful gems, but because it is not our story, all we can do as writers is to look at them as we pass.
On the flip side, while there was so much more that I wanted to happen to the narrator, and so much more I wanted to know about her, at the same time I felt like I knew her very well. And this is a direct result of the way 100 Unfortunate Days was structured.
Another writer friend of mine, Aniko Carmean, said that she felt like she needed to go back and look over it again, search out any patterns or significance in the days and what the narrator was thinking that day. I think I agree. I would like to take another look, as well, because there does seem to be a pattern in the mania, or at least repetition of some central ideas.
“Though this be madness, yet there be method in’t”- Polonius
And it goes beyond just a woman unhappy with her life. There are undercurrents, and if I were to categorize, they run the gamut from science to superstition to skepticism. Personally, I love all those things, and I was thoroughly entertained (if a little disturbed or mystified) whenever they came up in the narrator’s daily ruminations.
But the simple discontentment can’t be denied. This is an unhappy woman. And for some pretty good reasons. And for some pretty normal reasons. Dare I say, familiar reasons? There were definitely a few moments where the words on the page (or Kindle, rather) could’ve been penned by my own hand.
Again, as if I don’t already question my own sanity enough.
Speaking of questioning (and that skepticism I mentioned earlier), this is a woman who has lost her fondness for God, if she believes that he exists in the first place. The tone is often accusatory and even venomous at times. And it is real. Whether I agreed or not, I could understand why she felt the way she did, and I will say that certain sentiments again echoed my own.
The beliefs (or lack thereof) of humanity have always been a fascinating topic to me, and I’m open to most ideas. However, I’m just giving the rest of you a little heads-up if you might be offended by this type of thinking.
And again, it’s important that you don’t come to this story expecting a clear, strong thread of a story. While the aforementioned undercurrents are certainly there, 100 Unfortunate Days is very much like a journal would be. We’ve been granted a vision into 100 of this woman’s days. And they’re not pretty. We don’t necessarily get to see where she was before these days, and at the end, we don’t know whether to be fearful or optimistic for where she may be on Day 101.
This was probably my biggest struggle, but in this, Crowe has done something innovative. Did I want to know more? You bet. And I would hope there would be more someday, but until then, I was thoroughly drawn in by this glimpse into the mind of a fascinating character. And based on the reviews at Amazon, I don’t believe I’m alone when I say again, a glimpse into a bit of my own reflection.
The narrator of 100 Unfortunate Days starts out by telling us, “The pain behind my eye reminds me I have worms in my brain.”
The first time I heard of spirochetes was in Vonnegut’s introduction to Breakfast of Champions, where he talks about the corkscrew bacteria which afflict poor souls in the last stages of syphilis. It is an image which stuck with me. A little research will tell you that this particular phylum of bacteria can be the cause of anything from relapsing fever to Lyme disease.
But the reader of Crowe’s book isn’t quite sure what to believe. Is this woman actually afflicted with some sort of physical illness, or is she just letting a mental illness get away with her? Does she really have something that is causing these thoughts? Or did she perhaps read, as I did, something that made her suspect her brain had actually been infested?
Now this was just Day One, but the question of what the narrators perceives as reality stays with the reader for most of the story. But let it be noted early on, “story” is a tricky term to use. This is, after all, simply 100 days in her life. And life doesn’t always have a coherent storyline (but more on that later).
However, for this particular reader, in those 100 days was a writer’s paradise. What will probably come off as schizophrenic for many readers (probably the author’s intent) was rich material for me full of possibilities. Many spots reminded me of my post, A day in the mind of a horror writer. Of course, I’ve often questioned my own sanity, so this narrator frequently felt like an old friend.
Having said that, this reflects perhaps not so much a complaint, but rather a disappointment I had with 100 Unfortunate Days. I understand this is not my creation, but there were so many possible story ideas, so many possible directions that I wanted things to go for the narrator, but these ideas didn’t usually materialize much past the day they were written. Crowe kept dropping these beautiful gems, but because it is not our story, all we can do as writers is to look at them as we pass.
On the flip side, while there was so much more that I wanted to happen to the narrator, and so much more I wanted to know about her, at the same time I felt like I knew her very well. And this is a direct result of the way 100 Unfortunate Days was structured.
Another writer friend of mine, Aniko Carmean, said that she felt like she needed to go back and look over it again, search out any patterns or significance in the days and what the narrator was thinking that day. I think I agree. I would like to take another look, as well, because there does seem to be a pattern in the mania, or at least repetition of some central ideas.
“Though this be madness, yet there be method in’t”- Polonius
And it goes beyond just a woman unhappy with her life. There are undercurrents, and if I were to categorize, they run the gamut from science to superstition to skepticism. Personally, I love all those things, and I was thoroughly entertained (if a little disturbed or mystified) whenever they came up in the narrator’s daily ruminations.
But the simple discontentment can’t be denied. This is an unhappy woman. And for some pretty good reasons. And for some pretty normal reasons. Dare I say, familiar reasons? There were definitely a few moments where the words on the page (or Kindle, rather) could’ve been penned by my own hand.
Again, as if I don’t already question my own sanity enough.
Speaking of questioning (and that skepticism I mentioned earlier), this is a woman who has lost her fondness for God, if she believes that he exists in the first place. The tone is often accusatory and even venomous at times. And it is real. Whether I agreed or not, I could understand why she felt the way she did, and I will say that certain sentiments again echoed my own.
The beliefs (or lack thereof) of humanity have always been a fascinating topic to me, and I’m open to most ideas. However, I’m just giving the rest of you a little heads-up if you might be offended by this type of thinking.
And again, it’s important that you don’t come to this story expecting a clear, strong thread of a story. While the aforementioned undercurrents are certainly there, 100 Unfortunate Days is very much like a journal would be. We’ve been granted a vision into 100 of this woman’s days. And they’re not pretty. We don’t necessarily get to see where she was before these days, and at the end, we don’t know whether to be fearful or optimistic for where she may be on Day 101.
This was probably my biggest struggle, but in this, Crowe has done something innovative. Did I want to know more? You bet. And I would hope there would be more someday, but until then, I was thoroughly drawn in by this glimpse into the mind of a fascinating character. And based on the reviews at Amazon, I don’t believe I’m alone when I say again, a glimpse into a bit of my own reflection.
January 16, 2019
Another week, another review – and another chance to reflect on just how diverse a place the indie jungle can be. Last week I reviewed Peter Labrow's The Well, a page-turner that would make such a good addition to the lists of any traditional publisher that I find it quite strange that it isn't included in any such lists. This week's book is something utterly, utterly different.
100 Unfortunate Days might never have been traditionally published – not because it isn't any good (it's very good indeed), but because, far from being horror in the usual sense of the word, it isn't even a novel in the usual sense of the word. The story? There isn't really a story as such; and while it is possible to discern some kind of narrative and character development here, you have to dig around a bit to find them. And that isn't necessarily easy, as 100 Unfortunate Days takes the concept of the unreliable narrator to a whole new level.
"This book might not be for you," the blurb warns us; and while the same might reasonably be said of just about any book, in the case of 100 Unfortunate Days it seems particularly apposite. The 100 days of the title refer to "the diary of a madwoman", an insight into an unbalanced mind via a series of vignettes and a collection of "days". These are not necessarily sequential days, just excerpts from a life – a life that is probably as outwardly banal and monotonous as anyone's, but which is, on the inside, claustrophobic, conflicted, and frequently terrifying.
While this may be termed "horror" for the sake of convenience (and to satisfy booksellers, who like to slap a convenient label on things) it is not the horror of ghosts, ghouls, monsters or murders, despite the fact that it begins with a story of demonic possession. 100 Unfortunate Days is, rather, an examination of a much more widespread, and much more frightening, horror: the horror of squandered life, of soured love and isolation. The narrator is trapped in a life she loathes: "There are days when I can find nothing good in the world and I hate everyone", she says. She is emotionally estranged from her family, apparently friendless, and devoid of any sense of purpose. She talks about the common disasters and disappointments that afflict many of us: getting married in haste and repenting at leisure, being disappointed by one's family and one's own ability to connect with them, and getting trapped in a stifling lifestyle. "There will be a day when you realize you wasted your life," the narrator warns us; and we, reading it, believe her. And there are other, still more prosaic, pains: getting older, going grey, putting on weight. Reading about them, you may begin to think that you and the narrator have much in common.
But then, and often quite unexpectedly, you get a passage like this: "The devil is there at 3:00AM." Or this: "You wake up again and again and you wonder if the jail time for murder would be worth it."
At this point the reader might begin to relax a bit. This is a madwoman, after all – or, if she's not quite mad, she is at the very least suffering from some definite psychological disorder. The woman is disturbed, and therefore nothing like us. After all, we don't worry about demonic possession, do we? We don't consider killing our own children because they're annoying, do we?
But then, on Day 29, you get this: "Here are some things I would do if I could go back to being 20 years old right now: join an art commune, write a book, kiss more men, kiss more women."
I suspect that most of us have had similar thoughts at some point in our lives. There are many such passages in the book, which begs the question: is the writer really mad, or is she as sane as anyone else? Is she psychologically disturbed, or is she just less squeamish than us when it comes to looking the unlovely truth in the eye? This is why 100 Unfortunate Days is disturbing: the madwoman whose diary you're reading might not be so very different to you. She writes about normality, about the things that everyone does and thinks. But here normality is shot through with reflections about demons and infanticide and the Apocalypse, and with the simple horror of life itself, with its disappointments and dead ends and wasted opportunities. 100 Unfortunate Days is frequently an uncomfortable read, and it may indeed not be for everyone. But then again, it might be for you – and if so, you won't regret reading it. Recommended.
Review first published at http://maribiella.wordpress.com/
100 Unfortunate Days might never have been traditionally published – not because it isn't any good (it's very good indeed), but because, far from being horror in the usual sense of the word, it isn't even a novel in the usual sense of the word. The story? There isn't really a story as such; and while it is possible to discern some kind of narrative and character development here, you have to dig around a bit to find them. And that isn't necessarily easy, as 100 Unfortunate Days takes the concept of the unreliable narrator to a whole new level.
"This book might not be for you," the blurb warns us; and while the same might reasonably be said of just about any book, in the case of 100 Unfortunate Days it seems particularly apposite. The 100 days of the title refer to "the diary of a madwoman", an insight into an unbalanced mind via a series of vignettes and a collection of "days". These are not necessarily sequential days, just excerpts from a life – a life that is probably as outwardly banal and monotonous as anyone's, but which is, on the inside, claustrophobic, conflicted, and frequently terrifying.
While this may be termed "horror" for the sake of convenience (and to satisfy booksellers, who like to slap a convenient label on things) it is not the horror of ghosts, ghouls, monsters or murders, despite the fact that it begins with a story of demonic possession. 100 Unfortunate Days is, rather, an examination of a much more widespread, and much more frightening, horror: the horror of squandered life, of soured love and isolation. The narrator is trapped in a life she loathes: "There are days when I can find nothing good in the world and I hate everyone", she says. She is emotionally estranged from her family, apparently friendless, and devoid of any sense of purpose. She talks about the common disasters and disappointments that afflict many of us: getting married in haste and repenting at leisure, being disappointed by one's family and one's own ability to connect with them, and getting trapped in a stifling lifestyle. "There will be a day when you realize you wasted your life," the narrator warns us; and we, reading it, believe her. And there are other, still more prosaic, pains: getting older, going grey, putting on weight. Reading about them, you may begin to think that you and the narrator have much in common.
But then, and often quite unexpectedly, you get a passage like this: "The devil is there at 3:00AM." Or this: "You wake up again and again and you wonder if the jail time for murder would be worth it."
At this point the reader might begin to relax a bit. This is a madwoman, after all – or, if she's not quite mad, she is at the very least suffering from some definite psychological disorder. The woman is disturbed, and therefore nothing like us. After all, we don't worry about demonic possession, do we? We don't consider killing our own children because they're annoying, do we?
But then, on Day 29, you get this: "Here are some things I would do if I could go back to being 20 years old right now: join an art commune, write a book, kiss more men, kiss more women."
I suspect that most of us have had similar thoughts at some point in our lives. There are many such passages in the book, which begs the question: is the writer really mad, or is she as sane as anyone else? Is she psychologically disturbed, or is she just less squeamish than us when it comes to looking the unlovely truth in the eye? This is why 100 Unfortunate Days is disturbing: the madwoman whose diary you're reading might not be so very different to you. She writes about normality, about the things that everyone does and thinks. But here normality is shot through with reflections about demons and infanticide and the Apocalypse, and with the simple horror of life itself, with its disappointments and dead ends and wasted opportunities. 100 Unfortunate Days is frequently an uncomfortable read, and it may indeed not be for everyone. But then again, it might be for you – and if so, you won't regret reading it. Recommended.
Review first published at http://maribiella.wordpress.com/
April 14, 2012
Atmospheric Scare, Beautifully Written
100 Unfortunate Days by Penelope Crowe is a narcotic head-trip to the dark side of the narrator's mind. The narrator approaches her revelations with honesty that alternates between charming and unnerving. In Day Three, she explicitly predicts a type of "drive-thru eye operation" that will allow "us to see into the souls of others." She can predict such a thing because she already has such a terrible clarity of herself. She does not shy away from horror, but instead focuses on her own soul and the poison she finds there. There is something brutal to rawness of her thoughts. Her despair sweeps from the mundane obligation of preparing meals for family, to her shamed musing about the jail time she would have to serve if she murdered her infant, to her anger at womankind "bleed[ing] one quarter of our lives away and smil[ing] as we make dinner." You believe her when she says "there are days when I can find nothing good in the world and I hate everyone." You believe her, yet you don't stop reading. I don't judge books by their covers (much), but I do judge a book by how often it gives me the undeniable urge to underline arresting phrases or fascinating sentences. This book gave my Kindle's underline feature a marathon workout. I don't think there's a single day where I didn't mark something. Some days are a solid block of underlining. On Day 98, the narrator proclaims, "The devil is there at 3:00AM." I underlined that, not only because I like the stark simplicity of the phrasing, but also because I believe the narrator. I've read books that gave me the creeps, read books that gave me nightmares, but until 100 Unfortunate Days, I'd never read a book that made me certain that the act of reading was inviting the attention of raw evil. Crowe delivers a blistering look into the furnace of madness, and does it with aplomb.
100 Unfortunate Days by Penelope Crowe is a narcotic head-trip to the dark side of the narrator's mind. The narrator approaches her revelations with honesty that alternates between charming and unnerving. In Day Three, she explicitly predicts a type of "drive-thru eye operation" that will allow "us to see into the souls of others." She can predict such a thing because she already has such a terrible clarity of herself. She does not shy away from horror, but instead focuses on her own soul and the poison she finds there. There is something brutal to rawness of her thoughts. Her despair sweeps from the mundane obligation of preparing meals for family, to her shamed musing about the jail time she would have to serve if she murdered her infant, to her anger at womankind "bleed[ing] one quarter of our lives away and smil[ing] as we make dinner." You believe her when she says "there are days when I can find nothing good in the world and I hate everyone." You believe her, yet you don't stop reading. I don't judge books by their covers (much), but I do judge a book by how often it gives me the undeniable urge to underline arresting phrases or fascinating sentences. This book gave my Kindle's underline feature a marathon workout. I don't think there's a single day where I didn't mark something. Some days are a solid block of underlining. On Day 98, the narrator proclaims, "The devil is there at 3:00AM." I underlined that, not only because I like the stark simplicity of the phrasing, but also because I believe the narrator. I've read books that gave me the creeps, read books that gave me nightmares, but until 100 Unfortunate Days, I'd never read a book that made me certain that the act of reading was inviting the attention of raw evil. Crowe delivers a blistering look into the furnace of madness, and does it with aplomb.
December 12, 2012
You know those writing exercises you do when you're blocked? Pick up a pen, sit in front of the keyboard, clear your mind and write whatever comes into your head, without censor or editing? This book reads like 100 such exercises. Some are dark, some of them are things that come through my head, some are only a sentence. It's an interesting idea, but by about day 70 I was starting to skim.
November 26, 2018
Weird book. I really could not get into this book. In fact I'm not really sure what this was.
February 16, 2019
Genuinely unsettling.
November 16, 2020
I don't truly get what this was but I'm not too mad about it.
December 20, 2012
"Someone said we should really be judged by how we act when we think no one is looking. Can anyone say they are good? Maybe WE are the devil..."
I wish I could tell you that whenever I read a book, it's hard for me to put the book down. Unfortunately, I can't tell you that. Many of the books I start, I don't finish. At my age, if a book doesn't grab me by page 50, I'm done with it.
100 Unfortunate Days not only grabbed me, it pushed me down and held me down. It is, by far, the best book I've read in 2012.
Penelope Crowe takes us through a 100 day, first person, brutally honest journey.
"And now we have diseases that can't be cured with antibiotics--super-bugs that are going to kill us like before we had antibiotics. It's just a matter of time. Soon the drive-thru eye operations will enable us to see better than before--maybe better than anyone has ever seen. We will have x-ray vision that allows us to see into the souls of others. We will be able to know who is filled with poison and who is not. Then we can get rid of all the people that are toxic and we won't ever have to worry about them again."
This appears in Day 3. I'm not perfect. I can be downright evil at times. But I can admit it. Can you?
"Even if you don't figure out what's wrong, it never ever, ever, ever stops. You wake up again and again and you wonder if the jail time for murder would be worth it. But oh, the baby is so adorable! The most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen--and it is. And your husband can't figure why you are such an idiot. Why can't you like this like everyone else? The baby is perfect and healthy and beautiful and you should be ashamed of yourself. And you are. You are. You are. And now every hour seems like five hours and you do anything to get through the day."
It's passages like these, frank and in-your-face, that make this book so brilliant.
"I heard that you cannot feel pain during an orgasm, and I told my friend. He didn't believe me, and we argued a little, and then he had sex with his girlfriend, even though he wanted to have sex with me, and he told her to stick him with a pin when he started to come. She did and he told me it hurt so much."
Revenge feels good. You know it does.
"Demons blind you against what is right and make you not really care about anything after a while. You will be able to make excuses for yourself for just about anything."
As Penelope reveals the demons, she forces us to confront our own. On the one hand, I want to hug Penelope for doing this. On the other hand, I'm afraid she would put a spider in my soup if she were ever mad at me. That's how honest this book is. We need honest books. We need books that cut to the chase and bypass the bullshit. I'm sick of the bullshit. I've been sick of the bullshit for a long time.
By the way, Penelope doesn't always follow grammar rules, and if you care, you're missing the forest for the trees.
Thank you, Penelope, for a brilliant book.
Please note: Some of her excellent drawings appear in the book. (In fact, I won one during a blog hop. I'll be displaying it up at our summer cottage.) However, you'll barely notice the drawings. The writing is too good to focus on those.
Please also note: I saw a photo of Penelope, and she's hot. That fucks with your brain (at least mine) even more. After reading this, I was expecting some hideous looking woman sitting in front of a computer. (Just keepin' it real.)
I wish I could tell you that whenever I read a book, it's hard for me to put the book down. Unfortunately, I can't tell you that. Many of the books I start, I don't finish. At my age, if a book doesn't grab me by page 50, I'm done with it.
100 Unfortunate Days not only grabbed me, it pushed me down and held me down. It is, by far, the best book I've read in 2012.
Penelope Crowe takes us through a 100 day, first person, brutally honest journey.
"And now we have diseases that can't be cured with antibiotics--super-bugs that are going to kill us like before we had antibiotics. It's just a matter of time. Soon the drive-thru eye operations will enable us to see better than before--maybe better than anyone has ever seen. We will have x-ray vision that allows us to see into the souls of others. We will be able to know who is filled with poison and who is not. Then we can get rid of all the people that are toxic and we won't ever have to worry about them again."
This appears in Day 3. I'm not perfect. I can be downright evil at times. But I can admit it. Can you?
"Even if you don't figure out what's wrong, it never ever, ever, ever stops. You wake up again and again and you wonder if the jail time for murder would be worth it. But oh, the baby is so adorable! The most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen--and it is. And your husband can't figure why you are such an idiot. Why can't you like this like everyone else? The baby is perfect and healthy and beautiful and you should be ashamed of yourself. And you are. You are. You are. And now every hour seems like five hours and you do anything to get through the day."
It's passages like these, frank and in-your-face, that make this book so brilliant.
"I heard that you cannot feel pain during an orgasm, and I told my friend. He didn't believe me, and we argued a little, and then he had sex with his girlfriend, even though he wanted to have sex with me, and he told her to stick him with a pin when he started to come. She did and he told me it hurt so much."
Revenge feels good. You know it does.
"Demons blind you against what is right and make you not really care about anything after a while. You will be able to make excuses for yourself for just about anything."
As Penelope reveals the demons, she forces us to confront our own. On the one hand, I want to hug Penelope for doing this. On the other hand, I'm afraid she would put a spider in my soup if she were ever mad at me. That's how honest this book is. We need honest books. We need books that cut to the chase and bypass the bullshit. I'm sick of the bullshit. I've been sick of the bullshit for a long time.
By the way, Penelope doesn't always follow grammar rules, and if you care, you're missing the forest for the trees.
Thank you, Penelope, for a brilliant book.
Please note: Some of her excellent drawings appear in the book. (In fact, I won one during a blog hop. I'll be displaying it up at our summer cottage.) However, you'll barely notice the drawings. The writing is too good to focus on those.
Please also note: I saw a photo of Penelope, and she's hot. That fucks with your brain (at least mine) even more. After reading this, I was expecting some hideous looking woman sitting in front of a computer. (Just keepin' it real.)
January 18, 2013
I'm a fan of Penelope Crowe's blog and enjoy her writing style there. Reading some of 100 Unfortunate Days' reviews on Amazon (as well as the free samples she posts on her blog), I decided I had to give it a read. So I inhaled it. One Amazon reviewer mentioned reading a few days' entries and putting it down for a week. I couldn't be so patient; I had to keep going, to see what newly outrageous, crazed, or twisted day would follow the last.
Framed as the diary of a madwoman, it takes a long and circuitous path over the course of roughly three months. Three grim and uncanny months. It's not a traditionally plotted tale, more like the thoughts of a (not quite well?) woman as she gets through a tedious, sometimes tortuous, series of interminable days. Lord, how many of the thoughts written have I had myself? How many have we all had? (A lot, though I must speak for myself only.) (But, yeah—a LOT.) And I think that's what contributes to the creep factor of the book—how much of ourselves we might find (dread to find?) in the narrator. I mean, the gal's clearly crackers. Or maybe she sees the truth of things all too well, and if that's the case, well, we're all screwed.
The other shadowy factor is that the voice is clearly that of a grown woman AND YET the way it talks of superstitious mumbo jumbo, the simplistically scared view of the Devil and how he's OUT TO GET YOU (as are the worms, and the spiders, and things lurking in your basement, the corners of someone's house, the backyard), reminds me of when I was but a wee Gothling attending Catholic school. The girls in my grade sometimes spoke this way, I could nearly hear the cadence of their voices as they relayed to me, quite factually, what evil horror would befall me if I looked into a mirror in a darkened room at midnight. It's this credulous childlike view, coupled with an air of know-it-all expert on supernatural terrors to avoid, heavily threaded by a fatalistic belief that no matter what you do, you're doomed, that seeped through the pores of my skin and into my bones. I felt compelled to read on, whether I giggled or shivered or turned off my Kindle device because that hollow feeling within me threatened to keep me from sleep on a given night...Dudes, this ain't for the faint of heart. But then, neither is living.
I regret only that I gobbled it up in about two or three days...maybe over the summer, when the night doesn't seem to return so quickly, I'll pull the book out again and take dainty bites of it instead...one unfortunate day at a time.
Framed as the diary of a madwoman, it takes a long and circuitous path over the course of roughly three months. Three grim and uncanny months. It's not a traditionally plotted tale, more like the thoughts of a (not quite well?) woman as she gets through a tedious, sometimes tortuous, series of interminable days. Lord, how many of the thoughts written have I had myself? How many have we all had? (A lot, though I must speak for myself only.) (But, yeah—a LOT.) And I think that's what contributes to the creep factor of the book—how much of ourselves we might find (dread to find?) in the narrator. I mean, the gal's clearly crackers. Or maybe she sees the truth of things all too well, and if that's the case, well, we're all screwed.
The other shadowy factor is that the voice is clearly that of a grown woman AND YET the way it talks of superstitious mumbo jumbo, the simplistically scared view of the Devil and how he's OUT TO GET YOU (as are the worms, and the spiders, and things lurking in your basement, the corners of someone's house, the backyard), reminds me of when I was but a wee Gothling attending Catholic school. The girls in my grade sometimes spoke this way, I could nearly hear the cadence of their voices as they relayed to me, quite factually, what evil horror would befall me if I looked into a mirror in a darkened room at midnight. It's this credulous childlike view, coupled with an air of know-it-all expert on supernatural terrors to avoid, heavily threaded by a fatalistic belief that no matter what you do, you're doomed, that seeped through the pores of my skin and into my bones. I felt compelled to read on, whether I giggled or shivered or turned off my Kindle device because that hollow feeling within me threatened to keep me from sleep on a given night...Dudes, this ain't for the faint of heart. But then, neither is living.
I regret only that I gobbled it up in about two or three days...maybe over the summer, when the night doesn't seem to return so quickly, I'll pull the book out again and take dainty bites of it instead...one unfortunate day at a time.
January 20, 2016
Okay, that wasn't at all what I was expecting.
I'm not really sure how to rate this book. There were times when I was reading it that I felt it should get three stars, other times I wanted to give it one. At one point I almost abandonded it without rating it at all, but then it got good again.
I settled on two stars (it was okay). It's a collection of random thoughts by a woman. And then sometimes I think it's a man, but then it's obvious that it's a woman again. But is it the SAME woman each time? I don't think so, because sometimes she's married, and other times she just has a boyfriend, and other times I think she might be lesbian.
Either way, the narrator is definitely neurotic, and/or suffering from depression and/or various other psychological disorders. I didn't find it disturbing, as the book blurb promised; I just found it weird.
Some of the things she says I can identify with, others I can't, because I honestly can't remember ever thinking that way.
The problem is, most "diary" type books involve the narrator progressing towards one clearly defined goal. At the very least, the narrator grows. In this one, there really isn't any kind of progression at all between Day One and Day One Hundred. There may be progression between (for example) Day Fifty-One and Day Fifty-Two, but by fifty-three, she's no better than she was at the start.
Maybe if the book were packaged differently. I like Flash Fiction, so I guess the days could be read as separate little stories, but that doesn't really make sense either, because some of them are barely a paragraph, and some of them are a few pages, and most of them could never stand on their own because they don't have a point.
I'm not really sure how to rate this book. There were times when I was reading it that I felt it should get three stars, other times I wanted to give it one. At one point I almost abandonded it without rating it at all, but then it got good again.
I settled on two stars (it was okay). It's a collection of random thoughts by a woman. And then sometimes I think it's a man, but then it's obvious that it's a woman again. But is it the SAME woman each time? I don't think so, because sometimes she's married, and other times she just has a boyfriend, and other times I think she might be lesbian.
Either way, the narrator is definitely neurotic, and/or suffering from depression and/or various other psychological disorders. I didn't find it disturbing, as the book blurb promised; I just found it weird.
Some of the things she says I can identify with, others I can't, because I honestly can't remember ever thinking that way.
The problem is, most "diary" type books involve the narrator progressing towards one clearly defined goal. At the very least, the narrator grows. In this one, there really isn't any kind of progression at all between Day One and Day One Hundred. There may be progression between (for example) Day Fifty-One and Day Fifty-Two, but by fifty-three, she's no better than she was at the start.
Maybe if the book were packaged differently. I like Flash Fiction, so I guess the days could be read as separate little stories, but that doesn't really make sense either, because some of them are barely a paragraph, and some of them are a few pages, and most of them could never stand on their own because they don't have a point.
February 12, 2013
Review of
100 Unfortunate Days
Written by Penelope Crowe
Reviewed by R. Murry
When reading Ms. Crowe’s Days, Salvador Dali’s name came to mind. He always haunts me every once in a while. Dali’s painting The Persistence of Memory, an omnipotence of a dream and an unconscious, shows in oil what Penelope demonstrates in her writing.
She writes with a natural surrealistic aptitude that reminds me of Dali’s paintings. Example of this is in her don’t likes list: I don’t like Yeast infections…or…American Idol, said in the same breath. Ms. Crowe does this with a smile in her presentation, knowing she hit a nerve in someone’s mind.
Her Days, 100 of them, represent many attitudes, one of which is the theme of Self Reliance. Ralph Waldo Emerson and his Transcendentalists would be proud of her. Faith in God or the after-life is not all that is needed to survive underlines her episodes with religion. I posed the question: Is Penelope a Gnostic?
100 Unfortunate Days is not for the faint of heart, overly religious, or weak minded person. One must have an open mind to read each individual Day. She doesn't hole back any punches on any of the subjects to the point you may feel insulted. Just forget about it and more on to the next Day. It’s worth it and you’ll be intellectually stimulated on another Day.
I paid $.99 for a read that I will remember. Penelope Crowe, whatever her real name is, will haunt me, as Dali has since the Sixties. I paid a dollar for a haunt - What a deal?!
100 Unfortunate Days
Written by Penelope Crowe
Reviewed by R. Murry
When reading Ms. Crowe’s Days, Salvador Dali’s name came to mind. He always haunts me every once in a while. Dali’s painting The Persistence of Memory, an omnipotence of a dream and an unconscious, shows in oil what Penelope demonstrates in her writing.
She writes with a natural surrealistic aptitude that reminds me of Dali’s paintings. Example of this is in her don’t likes list: I don’t like Yeast infections…or…American Idol, said in the same breath. Ms. Crowe does this with a smile in her presentation, knowing she hit a nerve in someone’s mind.
Her Days, 100 of them, represent many attitudes, one of which is the theme of Self Reliance. Ralph Waldo Emerson and his Transcendentalists would be proud of her. Faith in God or the after-life is not all that is needed to survive underlines her episodes with religion. I posed the question: Is Penelope a Gnostic?
100 Unfortunate Days is not for the faint of heart, overly religious, or weak minded person. One must have an open mind to read each individual Day. She doesn't hole back any punches on any of the subjects to the point you may feel insulted. Just forget about it and more on to the next Day. It’s worth it and you’ll be intellectually stimulated on another Day.
I paid $.99 for a read that I will remember. Penelope Crowe, whatever her real name is, will haunt me, as Dali has since the Sixties. I paid a dollar for a haunt - What a deal?!
July 2, 2012
Psychedelic, schizophrenic...and hauntingly familar at times...those are the first things that come to mind when I attempt to describe 100 Unfortunate Days. It is a raw, visceral journey through the mind of a woman who is probably doing a reasonable job of keeping up appearances on the outside while hiding what is actually going on inside her brain.
Written journal-style, this book is a collection of 'days' - maybe not necessarily 100 sequential days but a selection of thoughts from various points of the woman's life. Some parts were so surreal it's hard to imagine that they weren't written from within the walls of a mental institution while others were so familiar I could have written them myself. Her description of depression and the unending despair one feels as one day blends into the next is bang-on - I have been there too.
The tone toward the end is encouraging because it demonstrates the steps she takes to make the changes in her life needed to make things better. Clearly her unhappy marriage plays a major role and escaping from it is a huge leap in the right direction. I finished the book with the feeling that things are going to work out for this woman after all.
Written journal-style, this book is a collection of 'days' - maybe not necessarily 100 sequential days but a selection of thoughts from various points of the woman's life. Some parts were so surreal it's hard to imagine that they weren't written from within the walls of a mental institution while others were so familiar I could have written them myself. Her description of depression and the unending despair one feels as one day blends into the next is bang-on - I have been there too.
The tone toward the end is encouraging because it demonstrates the steps she takes to make the changes in her life needed to make things better. Clearly her unhappy marriage plays a major role and escaping from it is a huge leap in the right direction. I finished the book with the feeling that things are going to work out for this woman after all.
Currently reading
July 15, 2012This is written like a journal. So there is an entry for each day. Some are only a couple of lines and others might be a page but none too too long. It's ecclectic and some of it is thought provoking but I won't be reading it all at one sitting that's for sure. A little goes a long way. I started a different novel and will only read this one while I'm waiting for appts. or when I just want to read a little bit. I won't be enticed to spend a lot of time at any one sitting on this book. I had read a short story by Penelope Crowe and thought it very good but I am less enthralled with this book. I also bought another book of hers as it was only $.99 on Amazon. I hope it is better than this one!!
April 3, 2013
So, this had an interesting premise. The diary of a madwoman. Something about possession. But in reality this was like a collection of writing exercises over the course of 100 days. Most were not creepy. Most were like diatribes about various annoyances in the author's life.
There were a few creepy bits in here, but I was not as wowed by this as some reviewers. I wished there had been more of a storyline instead of randomness. I wasn't even sure if the writer was actually the same person from day to day - it always was a woman, but sometimes she was married with children and other times she had a boyfriend and other times she was depressed and apparently single (because those two things always seem to go together, don't they?).
There were a few creepy bits in here, but I was not as wowed by this as some reviewers. I wished there had been more of a storyline instead of randomness. I wasn't even sure if the writer was actually the same person from day to day - it always was a woman, but sometimes she was married with children and other times she had a boyfriend and other times she was depressed and apparently single (because those two things always seem to go together, don't they?).
June 25, 2012
I started this book last fall and yes, it took me a long time to get through it. Not because it wasn't good, but just the opposite. It touched my soul and brought out many old feelings and thoughts that I would rather forget. I would read a few "days" and have to put it down for a week or so.
Penelope Crowe is able to put her thoughts out there so that they dredge out the despair that many of us feel. I was able to think, "maybe I am not the only one." Whether or not Penelope actually had the bad times she described does not matter, what matters is that she understands how to communicate these feelings and draw the reader in. Excellent book, I will recommend it to all my friends.
Penelope Crowe is able to put her thoughts out there so that they dredge out the despair that many of us feel. I was able to think, "maybe I am not the only one." Whether or not Penelope actually had the bad times she described does not matter, what matters is that she understands how to communicate these feelings and draw the reader in. Excellent book, I will recommend it to all my friends.
March 31, 2013
WOW! 100 Unfortunate Days is clearly the most UNIQUE read I've ever devoured. From page to page (diary entry to diary entry) I found myself on a roller coaster of emotion. Some of the entries made me angry, some made me think, some were pure entertainment,and some even changed my mind about a few things. I can't really review this book as you would topically review fiction, because it is truly one of a kind. You can't help but be engrossed in the thoughts of this mystery woman's complicated mind and compelled to keep reading. Ms. Crowe's 100 Unfortunate Days is a page-turner and an EXPERIENCE all horror lovers, psychology buffs, and bizarre seekers should not miss!
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August 23, 2013Um estranho diário que parecia ser escrito de forma completamente random por uma pessoa que não bate bem da pinha.
O livro em si não passa de uma série de reflexões sobre assuntos que a personagem / autora elaborava. Não tem um seguimento lógico que se veja e de assustador tem muito pouco, pelo menos para mim. Pensava que ia encontrar algo que me mantivesse curiosa ou "assustada" mas o que vi não foi nada mais que linhas de texto de alguém que tinha tanto amor à vida como eu ao chocolate branco... Não me comoveu, assustou, fez pensar ou o quer que fosse. Não consigo gostar nem odiar este livro...
in: http://livrosportodolado.blogs.sapo.p...
O livro em si não passa de uma série de reflexões sobre assuntos que a personagem / autora elaborava. Não tem um seguimento lógico que se veja e de assustador tem muito pouco, pelo menos para mim. Pensava que ia encontrar algo que me mantivesse curiosa ou "assustada" mas o que vi não foi nada mais que linhas de texto de alguém que tinha tanto amor à vida como eu ao chocolate branco... Não me comoveu, assustou, fez pensar ou o quer que fosse. Não consigo gostar nem odiar este livro...
in: http://livrosportodolado.blogs.sapo.p...
January 1, 2014
Finished this last night. It started out with excellent writing and the subject matter was superb. I don't know how to describe it, but words like unsettling, uncanny, and spooky come to mind. It is 100 days of short journal essays. Some are a paragraph long others are several pages. The ones in the middle aren't as good as the bookends, but the subject matter continually caught me off guard. It was quite unsettling to hear some of the same comments those voices in my head say that I would never say out loud being expanded on by a character with mental illness.
March 1, 2015
This is a book that I read in a matter of hours, and despite being a fast read, it is the kind of book that made me exclaim, "What the hell did I just read?" when I finished it. It is supposed to be the diary of a madwoman, but when I think of such a person, what I expect is irrational and incoherent ramblings. This book is so disturbing and weird that makes me think of a psychotic, possessed killer instead. This book just makes no sense and, although I know that every person has different opinions about the same things, I can't possibly understand how someone can love this book.
October 28, 2012
I started ready this and wasn't sure I would like it as it's in diary form but I ended getting pulled into this story..it's a journal of a quick descent into madness and you find yourself swimming around in the spinning vortex.Some of the entries are bizarre, surreal, horrifying and then there are a few glimpses of sanity within the chaos. I would recommend this to people who like psychological horror.
March 4, 2013
Although the book is fictitious, Crowe has delivered a disturbing insight into a delusional mind. I felt completely immersed in this window of insanity. (I particularly like the non-linear concept of time, as I feel that it is quite realistic an pertinent to the psychopathy of the narrator.) She's managed to pull off a completely first person account without leaving the reader feeling like they were missing the descriptiveness of an omniscient 3rd person narrator. I am impressed.
November 21, 2012
Flipping through this well-written diary will leave you with a heavy heart. Its brilliant and disturbing; seeping with a real voice that is so accurate you can't help but relate to the thoughts that haunt her warped mind. Its a fast-paced read that will leave you wanting a peak at the rest of her diary.
September 27, 2015
I have mixed feelings about this book. The book did get more creepy as it progressed. I also liked how it was split up into different days. The reason why I give this book three out of five stars was that I wish it was more elabrote and I also would have wanted it to have more of a narrative to the book, other than that I did enjoy the book.
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