Pretend I have added in all the trigger warnings, because you're gonna need em...as the ashamed author, I am currently repenting for what I have unleashed onto the world!
DR Jekyll and Hyde and Frank and Jemima and you and cats in your hair.
(How to get rid of that god damn awful feeling)
Or
Warnings of influence
By the people for the people.
This is a grotesque soliloquy of a novel that has an egregious ending, not wholly supported by the author...need I say more?
Let’s just assume every trigger warning imaginable has already been plastered across the cover—because you’re going to need them. The author himself appears to be in active repentance for what he’s released into the world, and honestly, that checks out. This novel reads like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde collided headfirst with Frank, Jemima, you, and several cats tangled hopelessly in your hair—all while asking the urgent question: how do you get rid of that god-awful feeling afterward?
Marketed somewhere between a warning of influence and a manifesto “by the people, for the people,” this book is less a traditional narrative and more a grotesque soliloquy masquerading as a novel. Its ending is deliberately egregious—so much so that it feels only partially endorsed by its own creator, as if even the author stepped back and said, need I say more?
This is yet another unhinged ride from D. David Croot. His writing style is chaotic, bizarre, vulgar, and entirely unapologetic. It’s not designed for comfort or easy digestion, and it certainly isn’t for the faint of heart. That said, once you’re in, it’s nearly impossible to look away. The story unfolds like a fever dream—equal parts satire, wit, and creative anarchy—daring the reader to keep up.
Even when the narrative shocks, derails, or outright confuses, it maintains a strange gravitational pull. You keep reading not because you understand where it’s going, but because you have to see where it ends. The imagination driving the book is undeniable, and the author’s fearless, reckless energy bleeds through every page.
This novel won’t be everyone’s cup of tea—and it doesn’t try to be. But for readers who appreciate wild, experimental, rule-breaking writing, this book (and honestly, Croot’s work as a whole) is absolutely worth the experience.
Bonkers experimental fiction at its best. I’ve read most of this author’s work, and you have to prepare for something different with each book. This one embraces chaos with enthusiasm.
The book is theatrical, a performance in a story. There’s creative bravery and boundaries to push. Croot bends form and lets his imagination run feral in a verbose mash of ideas that blend and twist into the narrative. It makes sense, and the boldness gives the book energy. It’s refreshing in a market where most authors play it safe.
The voice is eccentric and individual. The narrative swings between moods and an unfiltered subconscious. However, there’s a sincerity that makes it compelling. It’s a book for readers who appreciate writing that challenges convention. It’s all about freedom and inhibition.
I love this authors work, the way he thinks and sees the world and more so, the way he writes about it. This book was a ride and a half, and while I always want to shout about each book I read by this author, when it comes time to write the well deserved review.... words leave me. Croot nor his work can be placed into any one box. He is original, wacky, quirky and uncouth for sure, but every book I pick up with his name on never ceases to stop me in my tracks. Another cracking book by a fabulous author. Keep them coming!