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F250
Lee Casey plays guitar in a noise band called Ottermeat, about to leave NJ, to try and make it in Los Angeles. For now, he’s squatting in a collapsing house, working as a stone mason, driving a jacked up pickup truck that he crashes into everything. As a close friend Ods in his sleep, Lee falls into a three-way relationship with two college girls, June Doom and K Neon.
F250 is a novel equal parts about growing up, and being torn apart.
"Bud Smith is Nick Hornby if you strapped him to a Tesla coil and launched him into a Sun made of Poetry." --Ben Loory, author of Stories for Nighttime and some for the Day
F250 is a novel equal parts about growing up, and being torn apart.
"Bud Smith is Nick Hornby if you strapped him to a Tesla coil and launched him into a Sun made of Poetry." --Ben Loory, author of Stories for Nighttime and some for the Day
- GenresFictionContemporary
236 pages, Paperback
First published August 26, 2014
About the author
Bud Smith
17 books453 followersBud Smith is the author of Teenager (Tyrant Book), Double Bird (Maudlin House), WORK (CCM), Dust Bunny City (Disorder Press), among others. He works heavy construction, and lives in Jersey City, NJ.
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May 29, 2020I wrote this book at an oil refinery, on my iPhone and I was sober, I swear.
November 18, 2020
What a great book. Maybe the best thing I've read in 2020. I've been circling Bud Smith for a few years now. Always my eye more on TOLLBOOTH. But, I had it on good authority that this was as good a book to start with from him than any. So I jumped in and I am blown away.
I love straight up Blue-Collar Fiction. That's the best way I can describe F250. Its good ole pull yourself up by the bootstraps and get to work kinda storytelling. The story is real because the writer has been there. This isn't written from a writer who's hidden away behind his keyboard after grad school. This is a book by a writer who's fingers have bled, whos pores have been caked with dirt after a hard day's work in the scorching sun. This is a writer who's come home at night after a long day with an aching back and sat down behind his keyboard and written the truths about life. He can do that because he's really lived them, right down to the gristle.
Bud Smith's F250 is Shakespeare for the working class. There is life, love, toil and joy in these pages. We've all lived these days the main character, Lee, lives out in this book at one time or another. If you can't connect with this story, you haven't worked an honest eight hours in your life.
I love straight up Blue-Collar Fiction. That's the best way I can describe F250. Its good ole pull yourself up by the bootstraps and get to work kinda storytelling. The story is real because the writer has been there. This isn't written from a writer who's hidden away behind his keyboard after grad school. This is a book by a writer who's fingers have bled, whos pores have been caked with dirt after a hard day's work in the scorching sun. This is a writer who's come home at night after a long day with an aching back and sat down behind his keyboard and written the truths about life. He can do that because he's really lived them, right down to the gristle.
Bud Smith's F250 is Shakespeare for the working class. There is life, love, toil and joy in these pages. We've all lived these days the main character, Lee, lives out in this book at one time or another. If you can't connect with this story, you haven't worked an honest eight hours in your life.
April 30, 2015
This novel sneaked up on me. There aren't any standout moments of gut-wrenching emotions, but the raw journal-like approach, the rock n' roll romanticism and the effervescent visual poetry of Bud Smith make him unique in his melancholy. F250 is an unreal journey of a man who's life is coming unhinged. It's a tragedy you're not allowed to cry about, something you read with an inexplicable solemnity.
It wouldn't be an understatement to say I enjoyed the shit out of F250, but I'm not entirely sure I could explain you why or sell it to you in a way that would make it justice. It's just something I thoroughly liked because I knew exactly what Bud Smith was trying to say. The novel worked my sense of empathy to death, like I think any great novel should do. If you're ever had your life not together, you're going see a part of yourself in F250, a part that you sometimes curiously miss.
It wouldn't be an understatement to say I enjoyed the shit out of F250, but I'm not entirely sure I could explain you why or sell it to you in a way that would make it justice. It's just something I thoroughly liked because I knew exactly what Bud Smith was trying to say. The novel worked my sense of empathy to death, like I think any great novel should do. If you're ever had your life not together, you're going see a part of yourself in F250, a part that you sometimes curiously miss.
September 15, 2015
Read 9/4/15 - 9/9/15
4 Stars - Strongly Recommended to fans of twenty-something fuck-ups who live to the beat of their own drum, like, literally.
Pages: 236
Publisher: Piscataway House
Released: August 2015
It's not often that an author can make me pine for a life I never lived. By twenty-one, I was knocked up, working my way up the corporate ladder in a distribution center, and paying rent and utilities in a townhouse with the love of my life. I was the epitome of responsibility. Yet here, as I read Bud Smith's novel, I am aching for an opportunity to turn the clock back and experiment with life a little more.
Now, don't get me wrong, as a teenager, I did my share of stupid things. Running around town at night in my friend's beat up pickup truck stealing soda machines. Chilling out at bonfire parties where the drugs and drinks were never in short supply (not that I did the drugs. I was a bit of a goodie two-shoes in that respect. But the drinks, oh yes, pass me a SoCo and OJ or a bottle of peach snaps and I was good to go). Talking a friend off a toilet seat when he huffed too much butane and thought his heart was exploding in his chest. Hitting up every concert we could scrounge up the money to see. Peeing on the side of an Irish Bar in Canada when they wouldn't let me in because they thought my Florida ID was fake and I was in a pissy mood. Moving out of the family house the moment I turned eighteen to live in a piece of shit house with a bunch of guy friends who showered more than any other men I know and always left me with cold water and no clean towels, and who let strangers climb in and out of our windows to crash in our living room whenever they wanted, eating my food and playing their stupid guitars and drums till all hours of the night. Then moving out of there and into my mom's place, taking up space while I tried college on for size.
So, wait. I guess I did have a pretty rad past. I just experienced it a little sooner and grew out of it much quicker than Bud's protagonist and his pals. Already into their twenties, Lee and Feral and Seth are riding life out in a condemned house, scrounging up just enough dough to get their band into the studio for a few recording sessions. Dating chicks, doing drugs, being chill. Lee, like me, is the most responsible of the bunch. He's a been-there-done-that-already kinda guy, having left his old stomping grounds in search of adventure and having found it all lacking. Now that he's back, he's sliding into his old routines, digging up masonry work where he can, falling in love with the wrong sort of girls, and trying to figure out what he wants from life. His head is screwed on straight, and his intentions seem to be in the right place, even though he can't get the hell out of his own way most of the time.
F250 is kinda magical, in the most anti-fairy-tale sort of way. Bud writes from the heart. His approach to storytelling is refreshing, and nostalgic, and perfectly rough around the edges. His characters are tested time and time again, and each time Bud knocks 'em down, he helps them pick themselves up and brush themselves off and square up to the next raw deal. They're down for anything and they never let a cool experience pass them by. Even when it brings bad things, like crashing the F250, or an accidental OD, or a near-drowning.
These are guys I could totally see my younger self hanging out with. You get the sense that they got along with everyone, that they weren't exclusive pricks, that they were cool as fuck. And that makes me think Bud must be cool as fuck too. Like his characters, he's not pretentious or posturing, he's shooting from the hip and he's hooked me. There will be more Bud in my future. Let there be Bud in yours, too.
4 Stars - Strongly Recommended to fans of twenty-something fuck-ups who live to the beat of their own drum, like, literally.
Pages: 236
Publisher: Piscataway House
Released: August 2015
It's not often that an author can make me pine for a life I never lived. By twenty-one, I was knocked up, working my way up the corporate ladder in a distribution center, and paying rent and utilities in a townhouse with the love of my life. I was the epitome of responsibility. Yet here, as I read Bud Smith's novel, I am aching for an opportunity to turn the clock back and experiment with life a little more.
Now, don't get me wrong, as a teenager, I did my share of stupid things. Running around town at night in my friend's beat up pickup truck stealing soda machines. Chilling out at bonfire parties where the drugs and drinks were never in short supply (not that I did the drugs. I was a bit of a goodie two-shoes in that respect. But the drinks, oh yes, pass me a SoCo and OJ or a bottle of peach snaps and I was good to go). Talking a friend off a toilet seat when he huffed too much butane and thought his heart was exploding in his chest. Hitting up every concert we could scrounge up the money to see. Peeing on the side of an Irish Bar in Canada when they wouldn't let me in because they thought my Florida ID was fake and I was in a pissy mood. Moving out of the family house the moment I turned eighteen to live in a piece of shit house with a bunch of guy friends who showered more than any other men I know and always left me with cold water and no clean towels, and who let strangers climb in and out of our windows to crash in our living room whenever they wanted, eating my food and playing their stupid guitars and drums till all hours of the night. Then moving out of there and into my mom's place, taking up space while I tried college on for size.
So, wait. I guess I did have a pretty rad past. I just experienced it a little sooner and grew out of it much quicker than Bud's protagonist and his pals. Already into their twenties, Lee and Feral and Seth are riding life out in a condemned house, scrounging up just enough dough to get their band into the studio for a few recording sessions. Dating chicks, doing drugs, being chill. Lee, like me, is the most responsible of the bunch. He's a been-there-done-that-already kinda guy, having left his old stomping grounds in search of adventure and having found it all lacking. Now that he's back, he's sliding into his old routines, digging up masonry work where he can, falling in love with the wrong sort of girls, and trying to figure out what he wants from life. His head is screwed on straight, and his intentions seem to be in the right place, even though he can't get the hell out of his own way most of the time.
F250 is kinda magical, in the most anti-fairy-tale sort of way. Bud writes from the heart. His approach to storytelling is refreshing, and nostalgic, and perfectly rough around the edges. His characters are tested time and time again, and each time Bud knocks 'em down, he helps them pick themselves up and brush themselves off and square up to the next raw deal. They're down for anything and they never let a cool experience pass them by. Even when it brings bad things, like crashing the F250, or an accidental OD, or a near-drowning.
These are guys I could totally see my younger self hanging out with. You get the sense that they got along with everyone, that they weren't exclusive pricks, that they were cool as fuck. And that makes me think Bud must be cool as fuck too. Like his characters, he's not pretentious or posturing, he's shooting from the hip and he's hooked me. There will be more Bud in my future. Let there be Bud in yours, too.
May 27, 2015
New Bud Smith novel is finally out. It's the best thing he's written that isn't appearing in our split book coming out later this summer. That's says a lot. I think I even blurbed it but I don't know if the blurb was used and I don't even remember what I wrote in the blurb (maybe something about Axl Rose and street urchins?) so don't even worry about it. Regardless, pick one up 'cause I laughed out loud while reading it, like literally laughed out loud, not like just chuckling when you read some clever thing or when you type LOL but feel nothing inside but the weight of the world crushing you, like gut-busting-can't-breath-who-does-this-guy-think-he-fuckin'-is? laughter.
July 11, 2015
This isn't the kind of novel you're supposed to write, let alone publish-- at least according to the snoots in your writing workshop. They'd probably be like "No one cares about your semi-autobiographical tales of fucking around and getting fucked up and fucking cool chicks in your early-20's!" But Bud Smith rules because he CAN write this book, because he writes like he doesn't give a shit about impressing writing workshops, because he's not some pretentious navel-gazer, because he's sharp and witty enough to make the lives of early-20's fuck-arounders captivating, resonant, & poignant.
April 25, 2015
I was privileged to receive an advanced review copy of Bud Smith's new novel, F 250. Here are some thoughts.
The protagonist of F 250 is Lee Casey. He works in construction and plays guitar in two bands. One band, called Ottermeat, plays adventurous music that Lee respects. The other band, Bedspin, plays bland songs penned by the rich kid in the band who pays for everything. Compared to his friends, band mates, and string of girl friends, Lee is relatively worldly. He's been on his own for a while. His mother, while living, is nowhere to be found, her presence in his life limited to a note in his pocket. Sure, like the others, Lee has dreams. One goes along the lines of, Go West, Young Man, and cut thee a record. But he's already taken an exploratory trip out west. He knows "that there weren't any answers in California that you couldn't find in New Jersey." He likes working with his hands, making things. So he pays the bills by working in construction. He took a pass on college. Not so much because the cost of college was out of reach, but that it simply didn't suit him. He loves the shore. The mountains? Not so much.
That is, in Smith's able hands, Lee is a well-drawn, wholly realistic character, even from the get go. As the story unfolds, Lee's character is developed yet more. Story-wise, F 250 is episodic in structure, yet realistic. What is life, after all but a set of episodes? Some are what might be called "little scenes"—quiet, poignant ones that you're pretty sure you've never seen, no matter how many "indie" books and films you have under your belt. In one such scene, Lee is eating dinner. It's the first time in his life, as far as he can recall, that he's ever sat down at a table and had a meal with a family. And it isn't even his family. It's the lady he got in a traffic accident with. (His fault.) When he comes to her house to pay for the damage, she invites him inside.
In another such scene, Lee recalls the time long ago when his friend, Trish, then nine, gave him a wooly caterpillar. The last three lines of the scene are:
"Thank you," I said.
"It's just a bug," she said, "world's full of 'em."
"Still, I appreciate it."
In the course of this novel, Lee and the other characters endure a string of setbacks. Broken romances. A band member quits. The house everyone lives in is torn down. An overdose death. A near-drowning. And three times, the F250 rear-ends another car, Lee never quite wrapping his head around the perhaps too-boring concept of keeping a safe distance. But that's just as well. Who wants perfect characters? Nobody! What we do want though, are well-rounded, believable characters who react to what life throws at them, and take control, to the extent that they can. We also like—I like, anyway—stories that end not tied up in a bow, but with subtle hints of better things to come. And on this, and all aspects of F 250, Bud Smith delivers.
F 250 is scheduled to be released in April. Grab a copy, be it virtual or physical, and enjoy.
The protagonist of F 250 is Lee Casey. He works in construction and plays guitar in two bands. One band, called Ottermeat, plays adventurous music that Lee respects. The other band, Bedspin, plays bland songs penned by the rich kid in the band who pays for everything. Compared to his friends, band mates, and string of girl friends, Lee is relatively worldly. He's been on his own for a while. His mother, while living, is nowhere to be found, her presence in his life limited to a note in his pocket. Sure, like the others, Lee has dreams. One goes along the lines of, Go West, Young Man, and cut thee a record. But he's already taken an exploratory trip out west. He knows "that there weren't any answers in California that you couldn't find in New Jersey." He likes working with his hands, making things. So he pays the bills by working in construction. He took a pass on college. Not so much because the cost of college was out of reach, but that it simply didn't suit him. He loves the shore. The mountains? Not so much.
That is, in Smith's able hands, Lee is a well-drawn, wholly realistic character, even from the get go. As the story unfolds, Lee's character is developed yet more. Story-wise, F 250 is episodic in structure, yet realistic. What is life, after all but a set of episodes? Some are what might be called "little scenes"—quiet, poignant ones that you're pretty sure you've never seen, no matter how many "indie" books and films you have under your belt. In one such scene, Lee is eating dinner. It's the first time in his life, as far as he can recall, that he's ever sat down at a table and had a meal with a family. And it isn't even his family. It's the lady he got in a traffic accident with. (His fault.) When he comes to her house to pay for the damage, she invites him inside.
In another such scene, Lee recalls the time long ago when his friend, Trish, then nine, gave him a wooly caterpillar. The last three lines of the scene are:
"Thank you," I said.
"It's just a bug," she said, "world's full of 'em."
"Still, I appreciate it."
In the course of this novel, Lee and the other characters endure a string of setbacks. Broken romances. A band member quits. The house everyone lives in is torn down. An overdose death. A near-drowning. And three times, the F250 rear-ends another car, Lee never quite wrapping his head around the perhaps too-boring concept of keeping a safe distance. But that's just as well. Who wants perfect characters? Nobody! What we do want though, are well-rounded, believable characters who react to what life throws at them, and take control, to the extent that they can. We also like—I like, anyway—stories that end not tied up in a bow, but with subtle hints of better things to come. And on this, and all aspects of F 250, Bud Smith delivers.
F 250 is scheduled to be released in April. Grab a copy, be it virtual or physical, and enjoy.
September 10, 2015
Writers like Tom Robbins and Christopher Moore can create bizarre, humorous, insightful novels by blending reality and the absurd, surreal, strange. Bud Smith can do the same using just the complexities and chaos of reality, and I think his books do a better job of tackling the human experience with the same blend of madness and warmth Robbins and Moore employ. And Bud is a funny guy, too. At no point does he go for the easy gag, but instead develops the characters and situations with such nuance that when you find yourself laughing you hardly realized you were being set up. But then again I wouldn’t categorize this as a “humorous” novel. It’s more a stripping away of the pretentious bullshit of what it means to become an adult, to figure shit out, to experience loss and love and struggle in a modern world that seems very intent on driving you into the ground, especially those who choose to completely bypass the painfully generic college-job-family paradigm. Bud’s creation Lee Casey is, as described by another character in the book, a man who is always bullshitting and joking around but may be the most genuine, honest, hardworking, and forthright guy you’ll ever meet, and he’ll never be the first to admit that. This is especially evident considering almost all the other characters in the book are operating on some level of damage. Honestly, Casey reminds me a little of the author himself, as I’ve gotten to know Bud a little of the last couple of years, and seeing a book like this come out of his brain only makes me respect him more than I thought possible. This is the type of book that would be kicking ass on a bestseller list if it had the machine working behind it. I won’t be surprised if his 3rd, 4th, or 5th novel makes him a household name, because Bud is definitely on his way with books like this. Like his previous novel Tollbooth, it’s worth your time to read.
April 25, 2015
When I think of Lee Casey now, I'm reminded of that 'beaten yet blessed' thing Kerouac supposedly said to describe the beat generation. I don't know whether Kerouac really said what I think he did, but it fits the main character of this book so well that I'm going with it. Beaten yet blessed, that's Lee Casey in a nutshell. He's had some pretty bad things happen for him, but some pretty good things too. He's a good guy and doesn't have a whole lot, but he can appreciate what he has and a certain kind of light seems to shine on him. It's cool, and it's delivered in some wonderful prose. It often comes across quiet, though there is plenty of noise in the novel, but it moves with the relentless force of that F-250 with bad brakes. To some extent, we're just fooling ourselves that there is any control...but we still need to take what control we can without sweating the rest. Lee Casey has a lot to say that you need to hear, but it's not something he can say direct. You got to read the book; then you'll get it.
August 31, 2015
Book Review: F250 by Bud Smith
Piscataway House Publications 2014
Fiction 230 pages
“It’s a novel about a noise band, some car crashes, kids with bloody faces, strange loves….” Bud Smith on F250
Thus reads Bud Smith’s hyper minimalist synopsis of his own novel F250. While this does summarize some of F250’s plot points with hilarious, deadpan understatement, needless to say, F250 is much, much more.
Set against a backdrop of the Jersey Shore somewhere around 2003-2004, the novel’s narrator and protagonist, Lee Casey, plays in a noise band called Otter Meat. The band teeters on the edge of either breaking big or breaking up and the dream of moving to LA beckons like some sort of mythical land of Milk and Honey. Lee works a day job as a stone mason. He hauls rocks, gravel and cement, his scant personal possessions, musical equipment, and his friends in his F250, a battered old workhorse of a truck that seems to crash into things like a heat seeking missile. Lagoon House is the dilapidated house in the process of being systematically demolished that serves as living space, party house, crucible and metaphor for a colorful and motley cast of characters going through life’s momentous changes together.
F250 depicts a group of friends whose lives are changing and evolving into something new as their old lives fall away. Preconceived notions of personal identity morph and grow into something new. It’s a story of farewell to youth and coming of age into adulthood and a story of self examination and self realization. F250 celebrates synchronicities and the peculiar kind of ephemeral magic that occurs as peoples’ individual orbits briefly come together before once again separating and twinkling into the heavens like the Perseid meteor shower. It’s about how the flash of one monumental event can change everything forever. F250 is about coming to grips with mortality and human frailty as we learn to understand our own individual gifts and strengths. F250 is about learning to forgive and to accept ourselves for who we really are and others for who they really are.
Some passages of descriptive prose are pure poetry.
“Outside, everything flickered like the world was film being fed through an 8mm grindhouse projector. Splatters of light struck everywhere reflective, creating a slowly rotating light show – glass and high sheen metallics caught the last rays of the falling sun. Reality was exaggerated. Colors were over-saturated: thick green, gold, plum.”
With references to regional cultural icons like Kiss, Bruce Springsteen and Thunder Road, Seaside Amusement Park, beaches, boardwalks, the Pine Barrens, Jersey salt marshes and 4th of July on the Jersey Shore, Bud Smith captures a unique slice of life and a snapshot of Americana at a particular time and place with lyrical agility and an unflinching eye. The book is also an exorcism, Last Rites, Kaddish, a memorial, and a celebration of life and love for each other.
With F250, Bud Smith has written his own “Moveable Feast” of sorts, with reflections based largely on his life as a younger man on the Jersey Shore; woven into a realistic work of fiction that is a totally enthralling and enjoyable read. With passages of cinematic prose and dialogue that captures moment to moment banter in spot-on colloquial fashion and characters large as life, Smith weaves a tale that is so engrossing and compelling that you won’t want to come to the end of it. At least I didn’t. It’s one of those books I could have devoured, but took forever to read, because then what the Hell was I going to do? It was like saying goodbye forever to my best friends.
F250 is a great book and Bud Smith is a hopeless romantic, which is a great thing to be in this fucked up world. I hope that Bud Smith revisits these characters in a future novel. The potential is there, and I would very much like to reconnect with these old friends as our lives once again intersect at some point down the road.
Piscataway House Publications 2014
Fiction 230 pages
“It’s a novel about a noise band, some car crashes, kids with bloody faces, strange loves….” Bud Smith on F250
Thus reads Bud Smith’s hyper minimalist synopsis of his own novel F250. While this does summarize some of F250’s plot points with hilarious, deadpan understatement, needless to say, F250 is much, much more.
Set against a backdrop of the Jersey Shore somewhere around 2003-2004, the novel’s narrator and protagonist, Lee Casey, plays in a noise band called Otter Meat. The band teeters on the edge of either breaking big or breaking up and the dream of moving to LA beckons like some sort of mythical land of Milk and Honey. Lee works a day job as a stone mason. He hauls rocks, gravel and cement, his scant personal possessions, musical equipment, and his friends in his F250, a battered old workhorse of a truck that seems to crash into things like a heat seeking missile. Lagoon House is the dilapidated house in the process of being systematically demolished that serves as living space, party house, crucible and metaphor for a colorful and motley cast of characters going through life’s momentous changes together.
F250 depicts a group of friends whose lives are changing and evolving into something new as their old lives fall away. Preconceived notions of personal identity morph and grow into something new. It’s a story of farewell to youth and coming of age into adulthood and a story of self examination and self realization. F250 celebrates synchronicities and the peculiar kind of ephemeral magic that occurs as peoples’ individual orbits briefly come together before once again separating and twinkling into the heavens like the Perseid meteor shower. It’s about how the flash of one monumental event can change everything forever. F250 is about coming to grips with mortality and human frailty as we learn to understand our own individual gifts and strengths. F250 is about learning to forgive and to accept ourselves for who we really are and others for who they really are.
Some passages of descriptive prose are pure poetry.
“Outside, everything flickered like the world was film being fed through an 8mm grindhouse projector. Splatters of light struck everywhere reflective, creating a slowly rotating light show – glass and high sheen metallics caught the last rays of the falling sun. Reality was exaggerated. Colors were over-saturated: thick green, gold, plum.”
With references to regional cultural icons like Kiss, Bruce Springsteen and Thunder Road, Seaside Amusement Park, beaches, boardwalks, the Pine Barrens, Jersey salt marshes and 4th of July on the Jersey Shore, Bud Smith captures a unique slice of life and a snapshot of Americana at a particular time and place with lyrical agility and an unflinching eye. The book is also an exorcism, Last Rites, Kaddish, a memorial, and a celebration of life and love for each other.
With F250, Bud Smith has written his own “Moveable Feast” of sorts, with reflections based largely on his life as a younger man on the Jersey Shore; woven into a realistic work of fiction that is a totally enthralling and enjoyable read. With passages of cinematic prose and dialogue that captures moment to moment banter in spot-on colloquial fashion and characters large as life, Smith weaves a tale that is so engrossing and compelling that you won’t want to come to the end of it. At least I didn’t. It’s one of those books I could have devoured, but took forever to read, because then what the Hell was I going to do? It was like saying goodbye forever to my best friends.
F250 is a great book and Bud Smith is a hopeless romantic, which is a great thing to be in this fucked up world. I hope that Bud Smith revisits these characters in a future novel. The potential is there, and I would very much like to reconnect with these old friends as our lives once again intersect at some point down the road.
July 5, 2015
I was fortunate enough to get a signed copy of this book from directly from Bud Smith, and it's a possession I shall cherish until the day when all our books are burned by some evil dictatorship. Until then, let's talk about how amazing this book is.
F250 is one heck of a fun ride. It makes me want to quit my job and start a band, and then quit the band and find a job because life's too crazy and unstable.
This book had me laughing from the beginning, just imagining this narrator driving around his POS F250 and running into things. But it's not all fun and games. Smith's prose is mature and often hits on deeply emotional and philosophical points (without trying to be too bloody serious, of course).
I'm a huge fan of Bud Smith's work, and I would rank this near the top of what he's done. I don't know if I like it quite as much as Tollbooth, but it's a fantastic novel and worth reading by anyone who likes music, trucks, beer, or words. Do yourself a favor and buy a copy.
F250 is one heck of a fun ride. It makes me want to quit my job and start a band, and then quit the band and find a job because life's too crazy and unstable.
This book had me laughing from the beginning, just imagining this narrator driving around his POS F250 and running into things. But it's not all fun and games. Smith's prose is mature and often hits on deeply emotional and philosophical points (without trying to be too bloody serious, of course).
I'm a huge fan of Bud Smith's work, and I would rank this near the top of what he's done. I don't know if I like it quite as much as Tollbooth, but it's a fantastic novel and worth reading by anyone who likes music, trucks, beer, or words. Do yourself a favor and buy a copy.
April 26, 2015
Bud Smith writes with the type of honesty that you would expect from a man who regularly uses a jackhammer and shoots the shit with ex-convicts. It's honesty that comes from knowing the downside of life intimately, while also being aware of the many pleasant surprises life can bring to your doorstep--or to your bedroom.
In F-250, he hits both ups and downs and while sometimes I may not believe that the book's events could happen to me, I suspect that most (if not all) of them have happened to Bud.
In F-250, he hits both ups and downs and while sometimes I may not believe that the book's events could happen to me, I suspect that most (if not all) of them have happened to Bud.
December 22, 2015
Bud Smith is the real deal. He's like a huge gob of bazooka gum stuck to your shoe, that says, you know you like it. A caveat: I blurbed this book. So fuck me, get it, and here's why:
"F-250 is like a nightmarish romp through an America you think you recognize, but might not want to. His characters are infectious, like the best opportunistic malignancies. Careful, you might devour F-250 in one swig. But, don't. Read with finesse. Then weep."
"F-250 is like a nightmarish romp through an America you think you recognize, but might not want to. His characters are infectious, like the best opportunistic malignancies. Careful, you might devour F-250 in one swig. But, don't. Read with finesse. Then weep."
September 28, 2015
I finally remembered the review that I dreamed I wrote of F250, which my dream self thought was brilliant. It's not at all, but I'm pretty impressed that I remembered it 2 months later, so:
Bud Smith makes the ugly beautiful and the beautiful ugly, and all gorgeously so.
Bud Smith makes the ugly beautiful and the beautiful ugly, and all gorgeously so.
January 17, 2016
My blurb for this book: F-250 is like a nightmarish romp through an America you think you recognize, but might not want to. His characters are infectious, like the best opportunistic malignancies. Careful, you might devour F-250 in one swig. But don't. Read with finesse. Then weep.
April 23, 2015
review coming yo.
August 16, 2015
Fresh wrinkles.
More - http://bentanzer.blogspot.com/2015/08...
More - http://bentanzer.blogspot.com/2015/08...
November 6, 2015
Like a modern-day Bukowski novel, if Bukowski were a nicer person.
July 6, 2021
Second book I've read by him.
Leans into past-tense, in the best way. About shit that happened when you were figuring yourself out, putting energy in all directions.
Also, not doing shit.
But, shit happened that you'll never forget. Swimming in the ocean while on-the-clock, threesomes. believing for a moment you could be a rockstar.
These sorts of things get me. These memories. Books.
If they're written well.
This one is.
On his goddamn phone. On his Notes App. That's where he wrote it.
Jeez.
The pace is a bit slow, but enjoyable. I carried it around and it got bent and all fucked up.
Recommended.
Leans into past-tense, in the best way. About shit that happened when you were figuring yourself out, putting energy in all directions.
Also, not doing shit.
But, shit happened that you'll never forget. Swimming in the ocean while on-the-clock, threesomes. believing for a moment you could be a rockstar.
These sorts of things get me. These memories. Books.
If they're written well.
This one is.
On his goddamn phone. On his Notes App. That's where he wrote it.
Jeez.
The pace is a bit slow, but enjoyable. I carried it around and it got bent and all fucked up.
Recommended.
April 28, 2023
I don't know how I came to find this book, but I'm glad I did. Bud Smith speaks to the part of us that's still trying to figure things out, who's not afraid of fucking up on the way to "success", whatever form it may take, and he does it with a degree of honesty that is rare to find in books nowadays. The main character Lee is a guy in his early twenties, he's in two bands, he lives with two of his twenty-something friends who are a shade more lost than him. I don't want to use any adjectives to describe the story because I feel like nothing I write will suit it, like a specter that isn't quite the soul it once was. All I'll say is that the characters in this book are no specters.
August 14, 2017
I loved this book. When I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it & when I would read it next. When I finished it, I nearly cried because it was so good. I don't even want to tell you anything about it, just know it's written with heart, humor, and wisdom-beyond-years. It's funny and sad and strikes the perfect harmony between those two feelings. Buy it, read it. Bud Smith is a kick-ass writer.
August 15, 2017
I loved this book. When I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it & when I would read it next. When I finished it, I nearly cried because it was so good. I don't even want to tell you anything about it, just know it's written with heart, humor, and wisdom-beyond-years. It's funny and sad and strikes the perfect harmony between those two feelings. Buy it, read it. Bud Smith is a kick-ass writer.
October 7, 2021
A terrific novel for that life and time of early adulthood, of bumming around with friends, of scraping by living in condemed dumps, playing in a band, drinking and drugging, of girls and guys all trying to figure it out, and the inevitable complications that make it so damn hard to get out in front of our lives. It's got blue collar gravitas, pitch-perfect dialogue among friends, and subversive art to spare. Can't wait to read more Bud Smith.
March 1, 2024
I don't know, man. Fuck it, I didn't like it.
I feel like I read bud smith books to chase the high I got from tollbooth.
It's like, another early 20s book about shit. There's graphic sex, a three way relationship, doing drugs with friends, rock n roll bands. Which would all be fine if the book was funny, which it is not.
Fuck. I'm clearly in the minority, I just didn't have much fun here.
I'm giving it a 3 star out of respect for smith.
I feel like I read bud smith books to chase the high I got from tollbooth.
It's like, another early 20s book about shit. There's graphic sex, a three way relationship, doing drugs with friends, rock n roll bands. Which would all be fine if the book was funny, which it is not.
Fuck. I'm clearly in the minority, I just didn't have much fun here.
I'm giving it a 3 star out of respect for smith.
August 29, 2023
A coming of age story that deals with themes of relationships, growing up, loss, and healing. Excellent character development throughout. By the end of the book it felt as if you knew the characters personally.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 28, 2016
Bud Smith is one of those unique voices that proves you can write stories with blue-collar characters without sacrificing the beauty of language. At it's core, "F250" is a story of friendship, following Lee, his roommates/bandmates, and the people who fall in and out of their lives along the way. That is, of course, incredibly reductive. Lee and his friends are incredibly complex, probably the most human characters I've seen fleshed out in quite a while. There are no heroes or villains, but then again, there are. Most of them don't have a single redeemable quality about them besides an overwhelming sense of pity that they generate, and yet...by the end of the book, you feel like you've lost your best friends. The author creates a perfect combination of conversational dialogue to keep the story moving at an enjoyable click. But what stands out here is the weaving of transcendent sentences, descriptions, observations, that turn the grimy into the sublime, the horrific into the serene. There is a particular way of looking at the world, where one can look at a quiet, pastoral meadow and be able to describe the millions of screeching voices of the pain that lie just beneath our feet, in such a way as to bring up feelings of sentimentality. Bud Smith can do this.
The plot is chaotic on the surface, but hides a complexity that you can miss if you read through it too quickly. Not that you would. No matter what your thing is, genre or literary or the like, this writing, these characters, these lives, clamp onto you like a tick. Even once you've pulled it off, the head may stick with you: barely there, but present, infected, rotting, and beautiful.
The plot is chaotic on the surface, but hides a complexity that you can miss if you read through it too quickly. Not that you would. No matter what your thing is, genre or literary or the like, this writing, these characters, these lives, clamp onto you like a tick. Even once you've pulled it off, the head may stick with you: barely there, but present, infected, rotting, and beautiful.
September 23, 2017
book, good
- was a book
- it was good
- trucks
- music
- rubble
- love
- growing up
- read it
- was a book
- it was good
- trucks
- music
- rubble
- love
- growing up
- read it
August 31, 2016
Warning: this is not a technical review. This novel is all over the place (in a good way), and it's only fitting that the review mirrors the form of the book.
First, Bud Smith is a terrific writer. Terrific writers are good with the details. That's where the great writers are separated from the good writers. The small details in this novel go a long way to telling an effective story.
There were several times while reading the novel that I asked myself what the plot or tension was, and for the most part, I found myself saying that there wasn't plot or tension - in the conventional sense. The characters have arcs, and there are complications amongst the relationships, including death, but ultimately it felt like real life. As someone who tended bar and tried to destroy their life in every meaningful way, there were so many times where the story is pulling the perfect chords to bring out the subtle melancholy of not wanting to die, but also not having anything to live for. And that's the driving conflict of the story. There's a bunch of characters orbiting around the main character, and they are all just trying to find a reason to live.
I also must mention that if you read this novel and like it, you should immediately listen to The Gaslight Anthem's "59 Sound" and enjoy the good and the bad of New Jersey.
First, Bud Smith is a terrific writer. Terrific writers are good with the details. That's where the great writers are separated from the good writers. The small details in this novel go a long way to telling an effective story.
There were several times while reading the novel that I asked myself what the plot or tension was, and for the most part, I found myself saying that there wasn't plot or tension - in the conventional sense. The characters have arcs, and there are complications amongst the relationships, including death, but ultimately it felt like real life. As someone who tended bar and tried to destroy their life in every meaningful way, there were so many times where the story is pulling the perfect chords to bring out the subtle melancholy of not wanting to die, but also not having anything to live for. And that's the driving conflict of the story. There's a bunch of characters orbiting around the main character, and they are all just trying to find a reason to live.
I also must mention that if you read this novel and like it, you should immediately listen to The Gaslight Anthem's "59 Sound" and enjoy the good and the bad of New Jersey.
October 6, 2015
The large and easy free-floating heart of the beats and the vernacular of a bunch of dickhead guys who never went to college figuring out the best way to call each other dickheads when they can't decide how a snare drum should sound. What that ends up being is something like my favorite sort of people I still know from when I was young, uncomplicated in a way that leaves the most human parts laid bare. Not necessarily understood, but known, and wholly so.
This is working class writing that isn't dumb or an accidental parody of itself and, holy shit, it's really damn funny. To be expected from a book written by a funny dude like Bud Smith who can cut to the quick of what it means for a guy in New Jersey to be in a band called Ottermeat and crash his Ford F-250 into pretty much fucking everything.
This is working class writing that isn't dumb or an accidental parody of itself and, holy shit, it's really damn funny. To be expected from a book written by a funny dude like Bud Smith who can cut to the quick of what it means for a guy in New Jersey to be in a band called Ottermeat and crash his Ford F-250 into pretty much fucking everything.
August 18, 2015
I received this book as part of a Goodreads Firstreads promotion.
This book is about the change that happens to all of us when we make the change from having no direction in our early twenties, to becoming a responsible adult.
As in real life, some people never grow up, and some people are not lucky enough to survive. Lee, the main character will be one of the lucky ones. He sees, he feels, he learns and he grows in this story. On a side note, the title threw, I thought it was a Sci Fi book (yes, I no nothing about trucks). This book brought back some long forgotten memories, makes you feel numb at times, but also shows you how like goes on.
This book is about the change that happens to all of us when we make the change from having no direction in our early twenties, to becoming a responsible adult.
As in real life, some people never grow up, and some people are not lucky enough to survive. Lee, the main character will be one of the lucky ones. He sees, he feels, he learns and he grows in this story. On a side note, the title threw, I thought it was a Sci Fi book (yes, I no nothing about trucks). This book brought back some long forgotten memories, makes you feel numb at times, but also shows you how like goes on.
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