I knew it would happen. Eventually the lottery would turn up a book from that polarizing genre:
That’s right, “Street Lit”
Heartbreak of a Hustler’s Wife: A Novel
One World/Ballantine, 2011
Yarni Taylor is a successful corporate attorney who wants nothing more than for her husband, Des, to renounce his hustlin’ ways and commit to his life as a pastor—especially after someone tries to kill him. But Des isn’t ready to abandon his old habits just yet. He has to find out who is behind the murder attempt, and he wonders if the brazen robbery that took place during one of his church services is related in any way. But before he or Yarni can regain their footing, a young woman shows up on their doorstep—Desember Day, the eighteen-year-old daughter Des never knew he had. And, unfortunately, she takes after her father, so trouble isn’t far behind. With their lives on the line, Yarni must sacrifice everything and take it out of the office and back to the streets to save her husband and her family from their checkered but intricately connected pasts.
So ironic. Today’s my birthday. It’s like the book lottery fairy was like “Hey! You non-committal fence rider you! Take a stand on this issue! Happy birthday biyotch!!!!!!” Ok. So here’s how I feel. Books are supposed to:
a) be more than 2 pages
b) have words and/or pictures in them
c) have an audience
d) some other stuff, but those are the main points
Street lit meets all those requirements yes? Nevermind that some of those author’s bang out 12 of those books before Tayari Jones or Zadie Smith have finished pressing the flesh at one of their book signings.
Words? Those authors manage to produce more than I ever could (Poor novel that lies in wait inside of me. Alas you may never be born. NaNoWriMo! You’re fired!)
Audience? That genre has it in spades!
Conclusion, as much as I wanna play the book snob I really can’t knock their hustle. Hustlin’ makes the world go round…