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Corner Boy: A Novel

Excerpt from Corner Boy: A Novel

Take eighteen-year-old jake Adams. Tall, slim and solid in silhouette as the lamppost he leaned against. On his face was a look that could only be described as casual tenseness. This look came often to his face and was one of the things that made him attractive to women. He held a cigarette loosely between his lips and the smoke spiraled lazily upward to linger in the hazy light from the lamp bulb. Out in the street hurrying cars blared angry horns at foolish pedestrians.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

278 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1957

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About the author

Herbert Simmons

11 books4 followers

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5 stars
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
Profile Image for Cody.
1,066 reviews350 followers
December 24, 2025
End-of-Year 'Loose Ends Bother Me' Microreview in Three Sentences or Less:

Corner Boy should be a case study used to counter every protest that a book must grab its reader within x pages, or suffer the ignominy of relegation to the dread “DNF” or “TL;DR” shitpiles that litter this rathole. With one of the best slow-burn starts I’ve read (in that I was bored fucking witless for 30 pages—yep, guilty as charged), Simmons shifts gears and loosens the book from a tight character study into a wide-lensed, poly-threaded sprawl, introducing a growing cast of POVs and flooding the pages with a sulfuric stench that clings to everything human. A not-very-minor masterpiece, as fated to Doom as anything Bobby Liebling ever put his name to.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews