Bad Monkeys was one of those books that I read several years ago and then could only remember the weirdest details about. Sadly, the title was NOT one of those details. When I mentioned assassins, abductions, clowns, Las Vegas, The Ant Farm and hallucinogenic drugs, people wondered what I was on, since no one I knew had read the damn thing except my husband.
I happened to stumble across it again a couple weeks ago and realized two things: a) it's written by Matt Ruff who wrote one of my all-time fav books Fool On The Hill and b) I had to read it. So how did it go?
Well, I liked it but I didn't love it. Which is exactly what I now recall was my original feeling about it. The twists and turns were great. I was engaged with the story and the protagonist and yet there was a kind of arms length enjoyment about it. I never fell into love with it and when I closed the book my reaction was more, "huh. Yeah, okay, now I remember it." Not so much "wow!"
I'm glad I re-read it, if only for sanity's sake.