Grouping Information

Hoopla Extract Information

stdClass Object
(
    [year] => 2023
    [artist] => Kevan Kenneth Bowkett
    [fiction] => 1
    [coverImageUrl] => https://cover.hoopladigital.com/dra_9798223365297_270.jpeg
    [titleId] => 16544741
    [isbn] => 9798223365297
    [abridged] => 
    [language] => ENGLISH
    [profanity] => 
    [title] => When My Hands Give Out
    [demo] => 
    [segments] => Array
        (
        )

    [pages] => 30
    [children] => 
    [artists] => Array
        (
            [0] => stdClass Object
                (
                    [name] => Kevan Kenneth Bowkett
                    [artistFormal] => Bowkett, Kevan Kenneth
                    [relationship] => AUTHOR
                )

        )

    [genres] => Array
        (
            [0] => Fiction
            [1] => Magical Realism
        )

    [price] => 0.85
    [id] => 16544741
    [edited] => 
    [kind] => EBOOK
    [active] => 1
    [upc] => 
    [synopsis] => Once in a dream I was presented with a terrible choice. Neither option was good. Both were harmful to the world. The first choice was to become a thug, a quasi-alcoholic, an abusive husband, father, and employer, an embezzler who made others go down for his crimes and got away scot-free (yet with a lingering canker of guilt ulcerating his gut)-in short a rancid stew of a person, the kind that keeps society and life grunting along on its present low, starved level. The second was to become a corrupter of people's souls. The second was much worse than the first in its effect on the world. Bad as being scum of that order would be if I selected the first option, the second choice would be at least a hundred times more harmful. Instead of mutilating a few people and spreading a certain amount of poison to several more (and providing the contagion of a bad example), I would by the second choice make carnage out of hundreds of beings. Worse than carnage-I would, almost certainly in most cases, annihilate them. I was in a bind. In my dream what was left of my withering moral sensibility cried out that I must make the first choice, the less hurtful one, and simply become a toxic schmuck. However, in my dream I recoiled from the bleak grey world I would inhabit for many decades if I chose the first path. You see, being a poisonous smear was boring. The second option was, well-interesting.
    [url] => https://www.hoopladigital.com/title/16544741
    [pa] => 
    [publisher] => Sixth Planet Productions
    [purchaseModel] => INSTANT
)