I bought this book from a bargain in a grocery store. It took me years before I started reading it because the other book I bought with this one is boring and it made me think that maybe this, too, is not a good read. So anyway, I just decided to read it once and for all, and fortunately, I enjoyed it.
Basically, this book is about Joshua King who was given five years, by his late father, to write a best seller book. In return, Joshua will get his inheritance, £5 million, but if he fails to make it a best seller, then he will not get anything. Joshua chose to revolve his story on the drug dealings that is happening in India. If you don’t get involved, you’ll never have anything to write about. He immersed himself into the real world of drugs, crime, betrayal and death – just to get a good story.
The first few parts of the book show Joshua’s life as a writer and this got me because I can see myself in the character. To say that I displayed absolutely no potential of becoming a writer wouldn’t have been, strictly speaking, true. I was always making up stuff and telling stories. I never actually wrote anything, but still, the potential was there.
It’s my first time to read a book that deals with serious matters like drugs, and crime, and it surprised me that I actually liked it. There’s a lot of twist and a lot of “didn’t see that coming” part. All in all, I’m recommending the book if you’re someone who likes crimes story.
I spent a lot of my life being disappointed.. And that’s part of the reason, perhaps, for why I kept on creating this parallel universe… where, obviously, I was the principal agent… I had to step out of my fantasyland and into the real world…
To do anything really worthwhile in this life, you’ve got to be hungry… I think I’m getting to a point where I’d like to do something with my life, you know, something meaningful… Soon, everyone was going to realize how really very special I was.
I hate the idea of anyone hearing anything about me without me knowing. It’s embarrassing, if nothing else… It’s funny but when you get bad news, you can’t admit to yourself that it’s really happening… Deep down you know that you’re in trouble, but you keep on believing that everything is going to be okay… How could I have been so fucking stupid? I can’t stand the idea of admitting it to myself.
Maybe that’s what you get from abandoning your dreams – loneliness.
Experience is the name people gave to their mistakes.
Sometimes life’s easier when there aren’t any choices.
My insomnia always comes in cycles, usually when I’m worried about something… I tell myself that I’m exhausted, but it never works. I just lie there and worry. I worry and worry, about nothing and everything.
This sense of detachment. It’s not that I don’t care. I just feel much, much less involved.
The first rule in good journalism – you have to make your own stories.