Written by Percival Everett

A sharp satire on writing and publishing and what it means to be black in America. Semi-autographical, it is a strong and audacious and funny and sad all at once. I loved the character Thelonius Monk, who is a mediocre intellectual novelist weathering his mediocre career until he takes on an inner city black persona and dashes off a short, tight and nasty novella (the book’s novel within the novel). The book goes over the top in the publishing world and Monk has to scramble to not be revealed as its author because he doesn’t want to be associated with inner city blackness and what he considers to be the trash of his new off-the-cuff novel. Daring, hilarious, metafictional and a deeply satiric look at American publishers and readers, it reminded me of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, but its wit and daring and out of the park boldness are all Everett’s own.