by Charles Bukowski
I've not read a Charles Bukowski novel before, though I have a faint acquiantance with his poetry. Bukowski is an angry man, not overtly so, but enough to keep his writing always on edge. His L.A. is an L.A. for all people; not the posh, decadent L.A. of movie stars and rockers, but one of postmen, race track junkies, and pseudo-whores. Not pathetic, but very real.
Post Office is a short read, and an enjoyable one. I wouldn't recommend it as a book-on-tape for your grandmother, but when Bukowski says "Fuck" you know he means it.