My recent obsession has been books. I have always enjoyed reading from a youngster, and recently my thirst for bound paper has been unquenchable.
You see, I used to use books as another obscure way to define myself. So I kept my reading material on the up & up. It was an attempt at relating a high brow sensibility. People might see my selection of e. e. cummings and think "wow, this girl must be very intelligent and interesting to read this wacky poetry".
|the tortured beauty inside....|
|I do still read this collection yearly.|
My short attention span led to me dive into the work of short stories and essay. Again, I felt this made me somehow supreme - my capability as grasping information or a story line in a quarter of the time compared to a novel must keep me wry!
I do still love story fiction and non-fiction both, but I have recently rediscovered my love for the novel. Even novels off the best seller list! Gasp! It required a level of commitment, and to become immersed in a story, in these characters, their pains, joys, triumphs, is so captivating I cannot seem to stop reading any one book once the front cover cracks open.
|I consider it my duty as a lover of writing, reading, and America to read this every year.|
I feel it's also a sign of maturity that I am able to say "Yes I actually like The Hunger Games quite a lot!" and not feel I'm somehow above that. I have finally humbled myself and it feels like I have been released from my own leash of intellect - or really to be truthful my fool-hearted cloak of appearing intellectual. I don't think I ever fully got that other stuff.
Last night I finished The Sisters Brothers by Patrick de Witt. It is a western which I would have shied away from had a trusted friend not recommended it. The protagonist is a melancholy type, and I am a sucker.
It's only onward from here, friends.