Killing Johnny Fry

It’s labelled a sexistentialist novel, and with good reason. “Killing Johnny Fry” by Walter Mosley is a book about a man who’s come to question the meaning of his existence following his girlfriend’s infidelity. He chooses to explore the meaning of life by throwing himself into the arms of as many women as possible and by trying out kinky things not many people would be prepared to watch on the screen, much less participate in.

The title of the novel hints at some sort of a murder mystery or psychological thriller, but there is really very little in that line of plot, other than the main character’s obvious (though not immediate) desire to kill his rival (it took him about a week to stumble on that solution to the problem, but I guess he was too busy playing sex games with the upstairs neighbour and watching dirty movies to think straight).

The reviews warn that “Killing Johnny Fry” is only for those who enjoy sex and enjoy reading about sex. I think of myself as belonging to both the categories, and yet I couldn’t wait to be finished with the book and move on to something less depressing.

I’ve honestly read better on the not-so-reputable Internet sites... for research purposes, of course. Which reminds me: my erotica novella is finally finished and sent off to the publisher.