books.
Sigh.
I love books.
I love the feel of them,
I love turning back the pages, watching my progress as I go and go and go...
I love immersing myself in them, completely and honestly, becoming the character's guarding them, seeing how they act, wondering what they'll screw up next...
I love finding the nuggets of genius, laughing at something no one else around me "gets," love the similes and the metaphors and looking for themes.
I hate talking about specific books.
I think that's a thing for classes.
I think that's something for trained professionals.
I mean, I can understand them well enough, and I feel confident with my own evaluations of the books, but people often... ask me about books.
I mean... what is there to say?
"I just finished my book."
"Was it good?"
"Yeah, I liked it well enough..."
"What's it about?"
... I don't like that question. I hardly like the "Was it good?" question. I mean... the "good"ness of a book is... irrelevant. How well I liked it is irrelevant. The book itself is a triumph of human energy and potential and amazingness - to have something published, to see your name on the spine... I don't want anything to be boiled down to "Was it good? Did you like it?" Because that's not what reading is about!
Not to me, anyway.
Books are not tools of enjoyment. They are tools to broaden one's mind, to expose you to thinks you would otherwise be unexposed to. They are the epitome of the human experience -- of human joy and human suffering and human growth and revival and romance and bromance and of life. Books are living things on their own.
Now, yes, some books are better than others. There's the mindfluff, the chick lit; there's Twilight, but even it has merit, even it has a theme. A theme I don't agree with, but it's there.
I just want to go to school, talk about books with intellects (not just like-minded people, of course), discuss the subtleties. I just want to read the raw copy of a book, improve it, make it great, make it something libraries and bookstores can't keep on the shelves, teachers rave over; something that gets taught, or at least discussed, something that people can understand and something that will expand minds and change hearts.
Alright. There's my blog. I'm gonna go read now.
I love books.
I love the feel of them,
I love turning back the pages, watching my progress as I go and go and go...
I love immersing myself in them, completely and honestly, becoming the character's guarding them, seeing how they act, wondering what they'll screw up next...
I love finding the nuggets of genius, laughing at something no one else around me "gets," love the similes and the metaphors and looking for themes.
I hate talking about specific books.
I think that's a thing for classes.
I think that's something for trained professionals.
I mean, I can understand them well enough, and I feel confident with my own evaluations of the books, but people often... ask me about books.
I mean... what is there to say?
"I just finished my book."
"Was it good?"
"Yeah, I liked it well enough..."
"What's it about?"
... I don't like that question. I hardly like the "Was it good?" question. I mean... the "good"ness of a book is... irrelevant. How well I liked it is irrelevant. The book itself is a triumph of human energy and potential and amazingness - to have something published, to see your name on the spine... I don't want anything to be boiled down to "Was it good? Did you like it?" Because that's not what reading is about!
Not to me, anyway.
Books are not tools of enjoyment. They are tools to broaden one's mind, to expose you to thinks you would otherwise be unexposed to. They are the epitome of the human experience -- of human joy and human suffering and human growth and revival and romance and bromance and of life. Books are living things on their own.
Now, yes, some books are better than others. There's the mindfluff, the chick lit; there's Twilight, but even it has merit, even it has a theme. A theme I don't agree with, but it's there.
I just want to go to school, talk about books with intellects (not just like-minded people, of course), discuss the subtleties. I just want to read the raw copy of a book, improve it, make it great, make it something libraries and bookstores can't keep on the shelves, teachers rave over; something that gets taught, or at least discussed, something that people can understand and something that will expand minds and change hearts.
Alright. There's my blog. I'm gonna go read now.
0 Response to "books."
Post a Comment