Just Call Me Snickers by Sara “Snickers” Hannon

Just Call Me Snickers

This is a great one. What could be more cutting edge than a web-only book that traffics in all kinds of subtle avant-garde literary pyrotechnics while being about a cat?

It’s short too. Here’s a description.

Sara Hannon is overeducated and under-ambitious, consumed by doubt and self-loathing, but always funny, and always looking for a way out. Like some bizarre collaboration between Nicholson Baker and J.D. Salinger, Creney manages to perfectly capture the drifting confusion of post-college life, the lack of certainty, the growing sense of desperation. Living in a town full of artists and hippies, Sara finds it impossible to fit in. Her roommates frustrate her. Her job frustrates her. Sometimes it feels like Snickers is the only one who truly understands her.

Sara is a real person. Snickers is a real cat. Scott Creney is a real person. Everything in this book is real. Except for the story. The story is made-up. Well most of it is, anyway.[1] But it’s such a beautiful story, you probably won’t mind. Her aimlessness, her lack of direction, her dissatisfaction, is a button she can’t keep from pushing, an unscratchable itch, an unnamable longing. She’s not hungry for experience, or success, or love. She is merely hungry, that is all. A modern fairy tale, at times vulgar and depressing, but ultimately hopeful, with an eye on the future, a story that adds rather than subtracts.

It is possible this story has as much to do with ventriloquism, or karaoke, as it does with literature.

It’s available as an e-book for $2.99
You can buy it here for your Nook.
You can buy it here for your Kindle.

1 The parts involving Snowden and the prolonged disappearance of Snickers are definitely made up–as well as, sadly, me turning MORPH into METAMORPHOSIS for 163 points in a game of Scrabble

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