“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.” –
-Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
I’d like to believe that those of you reading this actually enjoy reading. Possibly you spend a good deal of time reading even. Maybe you just got some new audiobooks (yes, these can count).
Or maybe not. It could be that you are failing in reading and you don’t seem to fathom why. “But I used to love reading!” is what you tell people. “I can’t seem to find the time to read these days.” Oh, so that’s what we’re going with then.
Don’t worry, I have also done this but I know that it does nothing to make me read. If I want to read, no one is stopping me from picking up a book and reading it. I love to get lost in a great story. It reminds you of the wonderful writers, most of who are unknown, that have not given up on their dream. If they haven’t, who says you should?
Sure, you might say you don’t want to write but you could change your mind one day. You might do something amazing and people will pay you great sums to write a memoir. Maybe they’ll make a movie about your life that is then not your life anymore. Anyway, a bit of a far reach but just know that you cannot stop trying because it might be too hard.
Besides anyone can self-publish, as anyone who writes on WordPress or other blogs knows though the likelihood of writing the “Next Great American Novel” is probably not achieved through your own means. As much as you might try.
Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read. Thanks for remembering that “hey, reading isn’t so bad after all!” That’s right, it’s not so bad. How, about we all try doing more of it?
I feel like talking about food. This is a weird thing to want to do, especially considering but alas. I run out of blog ideas rather quickly, but I love to write and the need to keep this thing updated nags at me. It’s not a chore to blog, though but more of a thing that I gotta do. Like, talking to an old friend. That doesn’t talk back. Which is fine really, since most people don’t text me back anyway. So to the internets, I go!
When it comes to food, there are types of food I like. There are types I do not like. Then there are foods that make me wonder why I bothered to eat them. Is water food? No, but it is when it’s weirdly flavoured (yes, I know not really but stop ruining my post ok). So, food is good when it’s clean, which translates to organic or raw. If it has that handy USDA certified or the GMO project label then it’s all good. The fruits are good. They all have different things they do for your body. The same dealio with vegetables. Then we like to eat carbs and not carbs. But, some carbs are good and some are bad? Yes, this is correct. We eat Italian, Mexican, Thai, Indian, and noodles. And rice. Then, mac and cheese. There is no particular order to anything, it’s just food and it just goes in your mouth. But, wait you should know where it comes from! Yeah, be an enlightened food eater. That’s called being a foodie, you know. Or something like that.
There are good kinds, there are terrible kinds. There is country, rock, pop, popcorn, cheese, robots, robots yelling over a lawnmower, robots doing this in a dance club, Flo-Rida, bouncy balls, screaming cats, and soft bells. It’s all music. There is music for Christmas. No not really for other holidays, only Christmas. Research on why is still pending but probably relates to something called holidays and tradition. Like anything else, you either like something or you don’t. Most of us like at least some of that thing called music. We also want everyone to know about our disliked music for some reason also. So music. It’s everywhere. It’s in your ears. In your mind and a part of your everyday.
All kinds. All genres. Anyone anywhere can pick up a book in any language and just start reading. Lose yourself quite easily within the pages of a book. So many pages to lose yourself (please pick a good book of fair length). In the age of ebooks, audiobooks, and the no-actual reading generation books still exist. They have always been there and will always be there. You can always count on books, just go into some independent bookstore somewhere and walk around. Books are a different kind of magic that some people will feel but only true book-lovers will understand and cherish. I hope that all people feel this at some point in their life (I’ll always feel this way about books, btw). Don’t just read books, love them too.
So if you want to be random, just go ahead and be random. No one is going to tell you that being random is wrong. Because it is not. It is fine as long as you know when to stop the absurdity. Actually, you know what just continue on. Just continue breezing along, my friend. Have a great day.
That’s what she wanted to be. That’s how she saw herself when she walked the halls of this place. People loved her here. They thought she was royalty. They had no idea.
In a place where few people understand one another, the silent author finds solace in knowing that she will always be revered in the library. Readers will always have your back.
There’s a thing about books that makes me want to keep reading them. I’ve read so many books and I still have so many that I want to read. There are so many books that I think I would like then start reading and decide I do not. The way that libraries makes me feel is happy. The way that libraries remind me that it is ok to enjoy books is a real joy no doubt.
Watching children read in a children’s section is rare these days, because of the computers in there. Which have reading games on them, so I’m not that mad. Reading is always a new learning experience. Usually, it reminds me why I think so complexly in the first place. Why I refuse to stop reading no matter how busy I get. I’ve done some audiobooks and some are good, especially when read by the author while others are not. There is something about books that is hard to define. That is hard to describe. I wish that I could find greater words but if you are reading this with glee then books are part of your life.
Unfortunately, I haven’t read as much as I would like lately. This year even. I could make more excuses about how I was doing something else, but the truth is I usually am not. As much as I love reading, I also love a good story. Sometimes it just so happens that those stories are in the form of tv shows. So obviously I have to watch the show for the sake of good stories, then right? Of course. This is how it goes then.
I love good stories and books that captivate me more that I do movies that are based on them. Take Divergent, for example. The Hunger Games. I will indulge in the movies, but reading the book for the first time will always hold a special place for me. Reading about a character that died breaks your heart, but you read on with a heavy heart to find someone else dead. It’s terror and you want to throw the book across the room. Sometimes you do. When characters fall in love or out of love you are wracked with how it will turn out because it matters. How they fare will distract you from the truth. The truth is that great books are not romantic, some are but they remind you of real life too. The movies do all the fluffy romance that doesn’t give you the same satisfaction. Books will always win in that regard.
So yeah. Read book. Read in general. You say you do, but you probably don’t. So thanks for starting that goal on the right foot and reading this stellar post.
It’s been awhile. But, I tend to forget about writing posts in advance and just go with it. Should I stop doing that? Yeah, I should probably write up some posts and schedule them up. I need some ideas, but I’ve also got some ideas for posts that could be longer in nature.
I’m also sort-of doing nanowrimo, but I don’t really care about making the end goal of 50,000 words just as long as I remember to write at least something. Yeah, the story doesn’t make sense but whatever. Then, there’s the online class I’m doing which just pushed the course load up in the last few weeks (like I have nothing else going on). But, right now this is “the me” writing time and I love it.
There is no point to this post exactly, but maybe I need more friends? I’m working on that one. However, making and cultivating those lasting relationships could take a little more effort. I want to be able to find someone who I not only get along with, but want to hang out with. I do realize though that at the end of the day it will still just be me. Hanging out with myself. Reading a book, writing, or watching a tv show. Quiet time is my favorite time.
Would it be safe to assume that many bloggers are not the biggest talkers anyway? Well, not all but most. I should do more book posts or at least make a better book blog. Anything to get me writing. However, I want to talk about the issues that matter too. Like, race. Or, what is normal? I’m interested in the subjects of: Many things. Mostly, I want to be able to have a dialogue online. Yes, I can write a post on medium and yes I might just do that. But, who am I that matters? At this point that is not relevant because while my voice is small it does matter.
So, books for the rest of the week or at least that’s what I’ll say right now.
That was a click-bait title, at least that’s what the analysts call it. I don’t have any analysts and this is getting off topic when the post has barely started so let’s go. This weekend is lists. Not great or epic lists, but lists of things that I want or enjoy. Today: Classic Literature.
Now, being an English major probably afforded me a bit of leeway in thinking about this a bit or at least that’s what people who are not English majors seem to think. The truth is, I never read any of the classics I thought I would. I read some obscure ones that turned out to be interesting, weird, and not ones I can say I would read again (probably because writing a 10 page paper drains the story out for you). But, here’s some novels that I read as an English major that stuck out the most to me. I hope you’ll check some of them out.
1. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen.
I think this must be the most under-rated Austen novel. I would have got to it eventually one day, since my goal is to read all the novels but one class in particular in which I read this book made me think about gothic literature and its effects. I do not remember watching the tv movie or masterpiece special, though maybe I did and it wasn’t as memorable as P & P. Read it though, whatever people told you about Austen forget it and let yourself read a romance out of its time for a bit.
2. The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon.
I don’t really know why I’m putting this on the list, I don’t remember the story that well. It’s probably because I saw it in the library recently and I remembered it to be sad and recalled a woman named Oedipa, vaguely. Give it a try.
3. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner.
Wow, go me putting this one on here. This was that novel that takes place in the South that was told through multiple narrative styles (which I just now read included a technique called stream of consciousness..interesting). I didn’t love it when reading it because I analyzed it without getting the meaning from it. I know its importance as an important historical novel about the South. I would recommend it even though I don’t love it. See, I think of others!
4. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.
I feel like this should be at the top. I think this is one of my all time favorite novels. I read it in a class for youth fiction or something. Most of my class did not enjoy this novel, but instead loved The Bluest Eye. I never got why that was. Of course both totally different novels.
5. Rabbit, Run by John Updike.
This is a good one, that’s all I remember. That it was good and I liked it. Read in an American contemporary fiction/American novelists class. It follows three months of a former basketball players life. There are sequels which I never read. This is like when I read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and was told there were sequels. I didn’t read those either. Whatever, don’t regret it too much.
6. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.
Majestic, heart-wrenching, and thoughtful. Read it and also read more of Roy’s work (I want to read more of her work myself.)
7. White Teeth by Zadie Smith.
This is also one of best books I’ve read. So profoundly moving. Does that sound like a movie critic? Sorry, but read it. If you want to know what its about in four words here: Immigrant family, London, tenacious, sinewy.
8. The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro.
This is historical fiction set in England. I believe it tells a story of a butler, but of course its more than that. It’s really a great book so I do recommend it.
9. Pavilion of Women by Pearl S. Buck.
I would use the word “oppressed” to describe parts of this book and “traditional” and “sacrilegious” to explain other parts. It’s maybe controversial, I don’t know. I can’t remember it clearly enough to say anything to make you want to pick it up and read it more but do look it up.
10. Caucasia by Danzy Senna.
Oh this book. This book, how I worked and researched this book for so long. It was the subject of a class paper and for a senior thesis I chose to write on this book again (professors worried I would be copying from the first essay, but I promised to do more research as I felt there was much more to explore on the novel). Suffice to say, the paper was never published in any journals. Should I have at least tried to submit? Probably? Would it be too late? I don’t know, but I need newer references and sources that the one’s I used likely. Enough of that struggle. Read it!
By this point, you may be like “wow, this girl read so many awesome books during her time in college!” And to that I would say, “Sure, but I read a lot of boring short stories too and I’ve read so many more awesome books since then!” I really have. Check out the book blog. I post what I read, when I remember to post about it.
It’s almost the end of the year. That’s weird, right? I might have mentioned before that I felt that this year was such a waste, but it’s worth mentioning again. This year was a waste.
On a somewhat brighter note, looking to the months ahead I might be moving out of here soon. Like out of state. This is a big deal, but I’m not really thinking about that right now. My mind is thinking about packing (for my holiday trip) but instead I’m here blogging. Anyway, thinking back on the year is what people seem to do around this time like they have to grasp on the remaining pieces of the year. What’s the point, though? It’s over, it doesn’t matter anymore. I didn’t find a good job before the holidays, but that only means I need to get out of where I am. Try a change of scenery, try something else. I don’t really know what else to do. I’ve read a lot this year. Like, so much.
A topic I’ve read a lot is dystopian fiction, because it just interests me. It makes you think about a future that might never happen, like an alternate reality.
So, a new year might mean starting over. It might mean taking the chance to do something different than what I normally do. It might make me jump step out of my comfort zone. I’m not a perfect being, but I say that all the time. No one is and we all know that.
Anyway, I don’t know when my next post will be but keep reading and keep striving to live each day. Reach for more, even if you don’t know where more can be found.
I made a playlist about dystopian related fiction, but if you don’t have spotify you can’t hear anything. So, I’ll just say it was a blend of different things.
My book for this year is closed right now, I hope that my next book will be just as awesome.
(This is not necessarily my last post of the year, just possibly last post before the holidays).