KIDNAPPED IN THE MOST EXPENSIVE TAXI IN MEXICO.
LIVING LIKE FRANK SINATRA WITH A UTI IN PALM SPRINGS.
AVOIDING EXPLODING RUBBISH BINS IN NEW TOKYO.
For better or (usually) worse, major life decisions start as a scribble on the back of a dive bar napkin for Paul Manser; a writer whose existence is mostly made up of stupid choices and wildly ambitious travel insurance claims. Written for the nomad-ish wanderers of the world, Life Plans on Dive Bar Napkins is for those who like late nights that turn into early mornings, saying ‘yes’ to a little bit of chaos.
Blending concision with tales of excess across the world, Manser’s compact debut packs a potent punch. The 33 chapters, some just a few paragraphs long, tell stories of adventure traveling—in Japan, Indonesia, Brazil, Argentina, Spain, Norway, the U.S., and more— from the perspective of a man who calls the heavily mustachioed Mexican cop shaking him down for a bribe “Officer Porn Star.” The kind of adventure that Manser describes only comes when one eschews all-inclusive cruise packages and ventures freestyle into the world, armed with a quick wit, sense of adventure, a trusted buddy, and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. But this collection is more than a catalog of drunken tales. Manser’s stories are poignant, well observed, and build to bittersweet endings of not-meant-to-bes and lessons learned the hard way. Ever humble and looking for the bigger picture, Manser spares us Hemingway-esque machismo and produces a book as surprising as the locales it covers, all while holding the reader in rapt attention.An accomplished magazine and travel writer, Manser brings readers the globe in a spare, polished, self-revealing voice. With crisp, vivid description and bursts of wit, his stories can verge from the somewhat comical to the truly frightening in short order. In describing his trip to the Arctic Circle we can feel the cold claustrophobia as his dog-hauled sled spins out of control: “My face is pushed into the snow… The sled falls over my legs. I can’t breathe.”
The stories are just as likely, though, to turn comic, as in encounters with a Guatemalan tarantula or the beautiful woman at a Reykjavik bar who notes that she could possibly be Manser’s cousin. Manser’s stylish prose is matched by a sleek layout and strong photography, with design elements that handle the chores of place-setting, freeing Manser to start his tales at their high points. The result is inviting and exciting, a triumph of travelogue and design that’s full of surprises.
Takeaway: Tautly told global travel misadventures, with a keen eye for design.
Comparable Titles: Adam Fletcher’s Don’t Come Back, Eileen Kay’s Nothing Went to Plan and Other Silver Linings.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
