Goodbye, Goodness

When I dared to bring home a book blurbed by Stephen Malkmus
I thought for sure I was going too far into my indie fangrrrl world.
Too far for even my Iota Ro Nu friends.
That people would quietly mock me beneath a veil of empathy.
Forever.
That I would write The Malk demanding my money back.
But it was also an Open City book and I figured I had good odds.

Turns out Goodbye, Goodness is really good indie rock and, in its way, one of the better contemporary American novels I've read in years. Disenchantment, mental collapse, Annie Oakley, bad clubs, driving and driving, John LeCarre, a head wound, and a singer-songwriter friend.
I'm not at the end just yet so I'm hedging my bets (especially after the pain I suffered finishing Fortress of Solitude), but Sam Brumbaugh is really good at noodling--as they say--so I'm not even sweatin' it.

Start clicking away and buying now.

...Or now.