A pretentious book starring terrible people.

My wife read this book and told me it was disturbing. She also told me that it reminded me of the two years she lived in San Francisco (where the story takes place); that disturbed me.

Right off the bat, I began reading this book for most of the wrong reasons.

This book is not well written and thinks itself much "cooler" than it actually is. The story a bit over the top in it's attempt to be the cool, sad tale of a young woman's ongoing train wreck of a life.

In retrospect, as I've gotten older, observing other people's unrelenting fuck-ups and corrosive and harmful lifestyles isn't quite as thrilling as it once was.

Enjoyed but this one is super angsty. I was in the right mood to read it but now it's time to set it free. Clearing bookshelves for move.

Well, it's a shame you can't see the cover because that and the title are the whole reason I read the book. Sadly, that sudden excitement in finding what I was sure was neo-noir was about the most fun I had with this book. It is NOT a novel about a blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window. It's sort of a meandering confessional of an rather uninteresting, and unlikable white girl. I feel like I need to point out her race, because it's like listening to Piper from Orange Is The New Black whine in your brain. It wasn't written horribly, because I WAS interested enough to keep reading to see if anything happened, but nothing really did. Actually interesting things happen, but the narrator actually makes things less dramatic by just being so Piper. I do feel like I would like this more if this was autobiographical, since I feel like being THAT honest about being a trash person is fairly laudable. Potential honestly and acceptable prose keep this from being a one star garbage fire, but I wouldn't ever recommended this to anybody. I honestly don't even know what to do with this copy, since I'd hate to disappoint anyone else, and it's far too smutty to donate to the public library. Oh well. At least the cover was neat.

This book was awful!! Basically a trip into a boozing prostitute's mind in San Francisco. The writing was painful to read. Everything was full of symbolism and metaphors. At one point I actually beat the palm of my hand against my forehead in complete disgust and frustration. I honestly don't know why I finished it, except that it was like watching a train wreck, you can't look away. The description says this book is "erotic". Only if you find her allowing herself to be raped by a stranger, and a prostitute fisting a man's anus erotic. In one scene she is in a church; "I made myself think 'God is dead', but it seemed dangerous. Then I thought 'my p#$$y is the same color as the carpet'. This comforted me somehow." THAT is the type of writing you are subjecting yourself to if you read this book.

It was a fun read, wish I'd come across it when my wardrobe was still all black. The writing it smooth and decently crafted, some of the descriptions were quite impressive and the quirky characters were better written than other books of the type. If you've just recently outgrown Poppy Z. Brite, give it a whirl.

Based on period, place, and subject this one should be a home run for me, but it just doesn't quite make it. Don't get me wrong, there are moments where the book approaches brilliance as far as the prose is concerned. There are also passages that are almost unbearably bad, bordering on juvenile. I can forgive bad prose all day, any day, but I draw the line at dishonesty. The points at which the book falls short are, if I had to guess, the parts where the author forgot the golden rule... Write what you know. When the protagonist describes her childhood and her sexual fantasies, the book is fantastic, the prose rings true. When the book touches on the darker things like one room apartments of addict prostitutes, after hours clubs, bars in bad areas with attached brothels, seeing heroin injected, these are the moments when the spell is broken, when one no longer feels like they are riding around behind the eyes of the heroine, but listening to her tell someone else's story. All that being said, the book is definitely worth reading and mostly quite enjoyable. I just really came away wishing it was better.

Bizzarro e decadente, intenso e oscuro. Non perfetto ma una lettura piacevole e a tratti piuttosto profonda.

If you liked certain books like Otessas Moshfeghs " my year of rest and relaxation " "the bell jar " and "girl interrupted" , im sure you will enjoy suicide blonde . A novel with a twisted melancholic main character, who is desperately looking for a connection with her Bisexual lover . With plenty of obscene descriptions and sexual scenes where the author writes about a world of junkies , sexuality , craziness , prostitution , death , regret and I think the most crucial: love and loneliness.

A book which I somewhat enjoyed , especially its darkness and its accuracy of the real world .Because despite of being a novel, labeled as " fiction" obviously , most fictive works of art have an event behind it that inspired it , and at the very end they're not so fictive after all ...

I wanted to give this novel 4 stars , but I think something in me pulled me back from it ...

3 stars. This book was incredibly depressing. I didn't like many of the characters. The writing was good but it was tough to read. I think other reviewers do a good job of explaining this book better than I do. It felt very 90s, but also very cold and removed somehow. Parts of it were slow which is surprising for a 200 page book. Even the sex scenes got a little boring because of the continued attempts at shock value. Who knew even a fisting scene could be boring.

Fans of Anaïs Nin's n  A Spy in the House of Loven will revel in this beautifully brooding book about a damaged young woman who finds herself adrift in San Francisco. Published at the height of the grunge era, Suicide Blonde vividly evokes imagery of grimy, smoke-filled rooms; neon-lit city streets littered with garbage; and abandoned, graffiti-plastered buildings. While Darcey Steinke creates a seductive atmosphere, she cheapens her novel with her over-eagerness to shock readers (a case in point: the book's off-putting opening sentence — “Was it the bourbon or the dye fumes that made the pink walls quiver like vaginal lips?”).

2.7/5

an interesting read, full of sexual scenes, lots of pondering of the meaning of life and people and relationships.
i feel like every character was pointless but two. i was mostly bored, the writing somehow dense, and skimmed over extremely long paragraphs.
a quick and easy read, maybe good for the sad girl book lovers.