I Listen: A Document of Digital Voyeurism Book

It's customary to find the second novel of an acclaimed writer to be wanting. The highs of the first are seldom reached in the second work. In Melissa P's case, this axiom rings true. While her first book, 100 Strokes of the Brush Before Bed, was an emotional burst and breath of reality, her second attempt is hardly worth the nice paper it's printed on. It's as though she went to a writing school after her first book and learned all the tricks of the trade and reproduced them without feeling, emotion, or talent. She vainly centers the book on herself and her own perception of fame that grew out of her first book. Sadly, the acknowledgments at the end of the story were the only part of the book that felt real, that conveyed any sort of emotion.