Dance, Recover, Repeat by Alasdair Duncan - Paperback USED

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From an edgy new voice comes a frenetic novel about boredom, porn, and pills. Brandishing a unique, comic worldview, Alasdair Duncan assembles a surprising, devastating narrative using dialogue, emails, Internet chats, fantasies, notebook entries, blips from video games, and more. 

Calvin is sixteen and bored with suburban life. But in the city, things are altogether more exciting. It's there that Calvin meets Anthony -- and the two boys quickly become obsessed with each other. Then Calvin discovers pictures of Anthony on a pornographic website and is drawn into his new friend's seedy underworld. Just as he's discovering what's like when first love meets first sex, when friendship meets lust, and when love meets loss, his teen angst morphs into full-on self-destructivness...and puts him on the path to an absolutely shocking series of events. 

With total command of the world he creates for his characters -- in which the computer is just another pill you can pop, another way to run and hide, like drinking or drugging or having sex -- Alsdair Duncan makes an auspicious debut.

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    9781416503422

This is a used, paperback book in good condition.  Softcover, 373 pages.

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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Part 1

A Friend with Weed is Better

Chapter One

Yet another afternoon at school and it's a case of hormones and anxiety running wild, and it's all very teenage and suburban and kind of, you know. Blah. I'm sure you've heard it all before. Chemistry was in third period, and I tried to find the urge to learn (C²H²0² -- 2CH²CH³0+2C02) but I spaced out completely for most of the second half. Afternoons like this I really don't know what to do with myself. I don't even feel like the stuff happening around me is real. After class I walked around for a while in kind of a daze and eventually met up with my friend and faghag Margot. She had these clips in her hair, pink ones, like a little girl would wear. I think she was making a fashion statement. I hope she was anyway. For some reason -- she never explained why exactly -- she was carrying this plush raccoon around with her. It was an expensive-looking one with a black smudge over its eyes the way I guess all raccoons have, and this little red tongue that sort of poked out.

"This is Haruki the Raccoon!" she told me. "My dad got it for me when he was in Tokyo." She lifted the tag and started reading it. "Haruki the Raccoon! are joining you on many adventures! Oh, and check this out. Haruki the Raccoon! have many small parts that may causing children under three years to choke!"

"When did your dad go to Tokyo?"

"He was there last week. Some business thing. I don't know." She waved Haruki the Raccoon! at me and made this grrrr noise.

"Isn't it fucking cool?"

"It's great," I told her.

She menaced me with the stuffed toy for a while, still laughing. She was making it talk, moving it as she spoke to make it look as though Haruki the Raccoon! was really the one talking to me. It was the kind of thing that I'd normally have found funny, but on this particular afternoon it was way more than I could deal with.

Haruki the Raccoon!: Hello Calvin!

Me: Margot, can you stop that?

Haruki the Raccoon!: But Calvin, I'm your pal! I am joining you on many adventures!

Me: Margot...Fucking...You're freaking me out with that raccoon thing.

Haruki the Raccoon!: You're making me sad, Calvin...And when I get sad, I am causing you to choke!

Margot attacked me with the raccoon. Sort of swiped at my head and chest with it, making this strangled growling noise. That was kind of funny.

Haruki the Raccoon!: Are you going to Edward's tonight?

Me: I don't know. What are the alternatives?

Haruki the Raccoon!: Not much. If you are going, would you like to come around to my place beforehand and get stooo-ooned?

Me: I probably wouldn't object to that.

Margot laughed. Or rather, Haruki the Raccoon! laughed. Both of them did.

"Cool cool," she said. "Get it together and come over to my house later this afternoon. Think you can get a lift?"

"With Mum? Not likely. I'll probably have to bus it."

"She's...?"

"Don't even ask."

Copyright © 2003 by Alasdair Duncan