The 'House of Leaves', not to be mistaken with an autumnal gardening guide, is in fact a bewildering tome that could only be more complicated if it required the reader to stand on one leg and sing the Betelgeusian national anthem to reveal its text. Often mistaken for a novel, it is actually a multidimensional labyrinth cunningly disguised as a stack of bound paper, known to consume the unwary with its footnotes, which have footnotes of their own, resulting in readers sometimes being spat out months later wondering why their cat has learned Esperanto.
Should you wish to travel to the House of Leaves, pack a ball of string, a good pair of spectacles, and perhaps a potted plant for company. Make sure the plant is a good conversationalist; you'll need the banter.
This book tends to lurk in the 'slightly haunted' section of intergalactic bookshops, nestled between 'Ghost Stories for Robots' and 'Schrodinger's Cat: An Autobiography'.
Avoid starting this book on Tuesdays; it's well known that the House's corridors shift more unpredictably on the second day of the week. Also, try not to make any appointments for the next few weeks, as time is a bit wobbly inside its pages.
It is said that if you hold a copy of 'House of Leaves' up to a mirror, the reflection will show a perfectly normal book that gives sensible life advice. However, no one has tried it because, as everyone knows, mirrors are notoriously unreliable.
If you've managed to escape the House, congratulations! Celebrate with our 'I Survived the House of Leaves' t-shirt, complete with an impossible floor plan that will confuse your friends for hours.
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