A Writer Writing about a Writer Writing about a Writer Writing. Except without the metatext, just lots of heavily-autobiographical-seeming reminiscence (or less forgivingly, perhaps self involvement). Would be more annoying were Dawson not so adept at crafting unusual vignettes and psychological characterization, but even so it's barely a novel. Not really fiction, not really more than a thematic series of stories and memories. Someone said he was almost as good as Kerouac, which is terribly damning praise. Fortunately he's nowhere near as bad as all that, and most of this was pretty brisk and interesting (the story about the green beret especially chills) at least until the end when he bogs down in reconstructing old relationships. Nice finish, too, finally delivering that meta-flourish.