gee damn

0 notes

Sometimes, opportunities present themselves to you and you say fuck it and you take them, and for a while they’re wonderful, and they even change your life a bit, but when they turn out to be unsustainable and you can’t just appreciate them for what they were, while they lasted, and then move on with your life, then they might start making you want to bang your head repeatedly against a wall.

Filed under opportunities

0 notes

First day of post-work outdoor reading weather. It’s late this year.
It was interrupted by some young missionaries who, ignoring my open book and waiting while I removed my headphones, wanted to know if I’d heard of The Book of Morman? They laughed obligingly when I replied, ‘The musical?’
Their next question was ‘Do you like reading?’ I lifted my book, said ‘Yes, but mostly American fiction’. Their faces lit up - ‘Oh, then you’ll like this, it’s American-’ ‘And fiction?’ I finished for him. More begrudging smiles. They were asking for that one.
Then we had a nice conversation about evolution and praying, and when I politely refused their card they wished me a pleasant evening and went on their way and I went back to my book.

First day of post-work outdoor reading weather. It’s late this year.

It was interrupted by some young missionaries who, ignoring my open book and waiting while I removed my headphones, wanted to know if I’d heard of The Book of Morman? They laughed obligingly when I replied, ‘The musical?’

Their next question was ‘Do you like reading?’ I lifted my book, said ‘Yes, but mostly American fiction’. Their faces lit up - ‘Oh, then you’ll like this, it’s American-’ ‘And fiction?’ I finished for him. More begrudging smiles. They were asking for that one.

Then we had a nice conversation about evolution and praying, and when I politely refused their card they wished me a pleasant evening and went on their way and I went back to my book.

Filed under mormans reading

0 notes

It’s great when you start reading an author who’s already got a body of work to slowly make your way through. A lot of my favourite authors are dead, so there’s not much chance of them releasing anything new, unless something’s found in an attic or at the bottom of a box somewhere. I usually try and spread them out. I couldn’t help myself with the novels, but it’s nice to know that there are still plenty of Fitzgerald’s short stories that I haven’t read yet; I could walk into a book shop at any time and buy a ‘new’ book by Richard Yates. It’s much less frustrating than waiting impatiently for living authors to write another book, which also comes with a higher risk of disappointment, without the advantage of time and general consensus to manage our expectations. 

It’s different when you know the author, though. Especially when a good chunk of their work is memoir. It’s far too tempting to speed up the process of getting to know someone. But it is strange to know things about a person that they haven’t told you. “Oh, yes, I remember that from such-and-such,” I have caught myself saying. Or you might feel like you know them better than you actually do. It’s similar with blogging - it can be disconcerting (not to mention cringe-worthy) when someone in real life mentions something you’ve spilled out into the internet; as if they’ve been reading your diary. Obviously it’s your own fault if you’ve put it there in the first place, but there’s a temptation to include a disclaimer, something about it being a one-way conversation. You can read it if you want, but for goodness’s sake don’t make me talk about it out loud.

Filed under books and writing and stuff