This blog is about reading my library in alphabetical order, and in the beginning I thought every entry would be my thoughts on a particular book, whether an old friend or a new one. And I almost didn't write this, because...look, I love to read, okay? I read pretty much every chance I get. Magazines, Internet articles, video game manuals, it's all fair game to me. I have learned something valuable from just about everything I've ever read. So when I find a book I just can't make myself read, I see it as something of a personal failure. For whatever ridiculous reason, I feel like I should be better than that, somehow.
But I eventually decided that this was really supposed to be about the reading experience, and discovering your limits is part of the experience. I discovered years ago that the limit of my patience (not my most notable quality) was reached in trying to slog through Victor Hugo. (I no longer own anything by him, and I will talk about that at a later date.) I was able to reconcile myself to that...eventually.
Learning it really is perfectly okay to just say, "You know what? This isn't for me" is part of the experience too. It doesn't say anything bad about the author, or the book itself, or about you. There are simply too many books and not enough time, and choices will eventually have to be made. So to Rita Askew, author of "Kind of Kin", I would like to say two things. First of all, thank you for helping me get to this place in my life. And secondly, I'm sure you're a delightful person and your book is lovely. But you know what? I'm sorry. It just isn't for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment