Hit is eight years old. Hes this kid who looks like hes been hit. But he never was. He was born like it, with a slight swelling on his left temple. Bulging. His father is writing a journal which Hit found when he broke into the shed where his father hides each night after work. The journal talks of bad deeds, very bad deeds. Hit doesnt know if his father actually does t Hit is eight years old. Hes this kid who looks like hes been hit. But he never was. He was born like it, with a slight swelling on his left temple. Bulging. His father is writing a journal which Hit found when he broke into the shed where his father hides each night after work. The journal talks of bad deeds, very bad deeds. Hit doesnt know if his father actually does these things, or just writes about them. So, he follows his father on his late night walkabouts. Hits a sweet kid but hes also a kid thats not quite right. He has juvenile insomnia. He is somewhere floating between me and e-number hyperactivity. Hes not lazy, just a little sluggish. Which is fine because his speed comes from the computer screen, and the lights moving in a thousand miles an hour across his eye balls. The problem, as the bad book reveals, is that hits grasp of everyday life is actually slipping away. The Bad Book follows hits bizarre life, an odd mix of his own fantasy, his fathers seedy reality and a confused, dark place somewhere in between. It is a desperate tale, depraved, frightening and shockingly disturbing.

Hit is eight years old. Hes this kid who looks like hes been hit. But he never was. He was born like it, with a slight swelling on his left temple. Bulging. His father is writing a journal which Hit found when he broke into the shed where his father hides each night after work. The journal talks of bad deeds, very bad deeds. Hit doesnt know if his father actually does t Hit is eight years old. Hes this kid who looks like hes been hit. But he never was. He was born like it, with a slight swelling...  Read More