Hindsight is 20/20

In retrospect, the subtitle should've given it away.

When I stumbled across My Name is Willin Borders a couple of weeks ago, I was so excited. After all, I'm a huge Shakespeare nerd. And the book is by Jess Winfield, one of the founding members of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, whose roaringly funny Complete Works is, well, roaringly funny.

My Name is Will is, well, not so much.

Okay, so the subtitle is "A Novel of Sex, Drugs, and Shakespeare." How was I to know that instead of the subtle (and not-so-subtle) innuendo performed with such hilarity by the RSC, this book would be pretty much pornographic? How could I have anticipated that a man who wrote a script full of such clever pop culture references would write a novel filled with almost painfully self-aware references and Shakespearean quotes that practically scream, "Look at me! I'm trying to be clever!"

I kept hoping this book would get better. But it doesn't. In fact, it never even seems to reach any kind of...I can't find a word that doesn't seem sexual in the context of this filthy, filthy book. It never comes together. (That's as benign as I can get. Sorry.)

It left me feeling empty and dirty and sad. It could've been great. But it was pretty much the complete opposite. Don't waste your time even reading the dust jacket.