“Asking a decent editor to save this book would have been like asking a doctor to help a corpse that had fallen from the top of the Empire State Building.” — The New Statesmen
All of which is excessively harsh, deliciously messy, and also—dare I say it—a little bit impressive? Admit it, there’s something kind of remarkable about being the worst at whatever you’ve chosen to do. At least, that’s what my mom once told me when I was eleven years old and everyone voted me the worst player on our fifth-grade basketball team.* And much like how my fellow Wildcats came together to correctly and unequivocally roast me that day in the school gymnasium, the general population has, over the years, joined forces to say that these books are the worst things the world of literature has to offer. Let’s dive in!
* Originally I was voted second-worst, but then Jessica (the actual worst player) quit, so I became the worst by default. At least I handled it with grace!**