Chuck Palahniuk is known for such works as Diary, Rant, Invisible Monsters, Choke, Survivor and Fight Club.
Chuck is one of the weirdest writers I've ever read, working in a genre all his own - Disturbing.
I've seen Fight Club and read Choke and that was enough for me. I think I need a break of one to two years in between each Palahniuk book.
He makes me sick.
And I don't mean that in a negative way. I mean it in a literal way. Let me explain. Over the years I've heard that one of his infamous stories, known as Guts, has been in circulation all over the web. Someone paraphrased bits of the story for me and I thought, well, that stuff sounds disgusting but what's the big deal?
The big deal is that since his first public reading of this very short story was read, the faint toll has risen. Last count was seventy something people fainting or physical ill while he was reading the story.
I chose not to read it or believe that a story could cause that much harm. That was until my girlfriend dared me to read it. I took the dare, being the cocky guy that I am and sat down and started reading it on the laptop. Got through the first paragraph okay. Along with the second. But in between paragraphs 3 to 6 my forehead began sweating, my palms felt clammy and I was slowly gulping saliva as the monsoon in my stomach began. If you have a vivid imagination, or vivid dreams for that matter, it is best that you not read this story...ever. Let's just say that in the part that I read, the part that drove me over the edge, the main character does something that is clearly in direct violation of how not to use a candle sexually.
I stood, queasy and clutching my stomach.
"Babe," I called down to her from the top of the stairs. "Can't do it. I'm going to be sick."
She hurried up, smiling, thinking I was playing around with her. I couldn't even look her in the eye, I was hunched over the kitchen sink. "It's not funny. I feel really bad." And I did. Not only was my stomach doing flips, I was feeling sympathy pains in my nether region. I ducked into the bathroom with a glass of water, guzzling the liquid and humming happy songs. Looking back, it was kind of funny. By the time I felt my body was over fifty percent better, I walked out of the bathroom. My girlfriend was shocked to see my face turned a shade of green. Seriously, the disgust is that potent. This story hits you where it hurts.
There was one point, when I hadn't read the story but heard about it, that I thought I could top Mr. Palahniuk by writing a torture story which later was called The Letters which is in the collection For What It's Worth. But after reading something like Guts, well, that door to my imagination is not only locked but I bricked and mortared the damn thing.
To those don't want to read Guts: You've made the right choice.
To those who still want to read Guts: Best of luck...you may want to be in the bathroom though when you read it. Just sayin'.