Hopefully you've read Bad Boy. Now you're ready for the second part. Jim Thompson's Roughneck is, like Bad Boy, wildly funny and in some parts, incredibly tender (for a Jim Thompson book.) Thomspon seemed to be aware of how wacky his life was. He wrote about it over and over again, though never quite as candidly as in these two books. Roughneck picks up a bit after Bad Boy ends. The book concludes on one of the saddest notes I've ever encountered in literature. Maybe some folks might find it cheesy. That's just because they a.) aren't writers and don't understand how important it is for a writer to prove to his parents that he hasn't wasted his life and b.) anyone who finds the end cheesy is a fucking poser who will someday drive over a cliff text-messaging a friend about "all the other douchebags on the road." Fuck 'em if they can't take a dose of real humanity. Humanity, of course, has nothing to do with institutionalized morality, so don't wag your finger and say I'm wavering! But I digress. Read this book, goddammit!