My Heart Is a Chainsaw

4 star read..love it

This book started off slow but once it started going, I couldn’t stop reading it. It was full of slasher lore, comedy, tragedy, and a lot of hearts. Jade is a high school senior, obsessed with slashers when her whole life becomes her dream, she’s living true life in a slasher film. Amazing book. Jones does not disappoint with this one again! Can’t wait for book 2!

Finished it in two days. Could not put it down. Fun story but a little confusing at times and some parts felt jumbled and needed better clarification.

One of the stupidest books I have ever read. Already purchased other 2 books in series. Don't know if I will read them or not. Also, don't care for this author's style of writing. Ending was weird and also stupid. Maybe meant for younger readers?

I thought this was a glob of mass-produced Hallmark cards I planned on storing in my bathroom closet, forgetting about, relocating while looking for flea shampoo, then giving to Goodwill to please Marie Kondo. It is not. Like most of you, I started reading seriously at around age 28. First, there was lighter fare like Gogol, then onto the adult works of Daniel Steele, until finally I was prepared to tackle Melville and J.K. Rowling. I have also been perusing the various medical bills that have dive-bombed/rattled the mailbox/windows/slits of the door/inbox of my house like so many Hitchcockian birds. Literature indeed. A few months ago, a young man who looked like a ferret dressed as a young man skulked up to my front door and gave three ferrety knocks, sideways knocks, without conviction—the type of knocks you might mistake for a cold rain or just a gutter shard dangling off the roof, rattling in the wind. “I’ll cut your dead ash trees down for two-thousand dollars,” he told me. “How about a thousand?” I replied. He said, “I have to actually make a living. How about $1500?” “How about $800?” I said, shutting the door. “Wait!” he said. “A thousand.” The remainder of this review you can mostly skip: it involves the ferret/man disappearing for weeks, showing up unannounced and chain-sawing down one tree (of three) and leaving messy piles of splintered limbs everywhere like the discarded bones of a prehistoric chicken, disappearing for weeks, crushing his own ladder and dangling from a limb, bringing two children over (I demanded he send them home), disappearing for weeks, and so on. Having finally spotted the ferret/man in my yard (I swear he appeared/disappeared like a feckless specter), I handed him $400 cash and said, “That’s it. Don’t finish the others. You’re fired. Never return. Have a nice life. Bang a gong. You lose! Good day, sir. Go away.” He gave me a quizzical look, looked at the ground, nudged a cigarette butt with his toe, then said, “I prefer not to” and cranked up his little coughing chainsaw, the blue smoke puffing into bars of soap, couch cushions, a noxious soupy haze…He’s out there right now, he is. Just heard a thump. Rattle. A shout? I don’t know exactly—I will not approach the windows. I am reading this book. I am engrossed. This is a good product: I can’t put it down. I can’t look away.