I finished "The Road" in three days. For me that is very fast. It took me three days to read my last book "Things Fall Apart", but that was because I had to for a class. It takes me about 2 to 3 weeks to read a book I really like. Even that is a rare case. For example it took me about 2 to 3 months to read "The Lovely Bones" and "Heartbreaking Work..." which are both books I totally loved, and was compelled by. Why did it take SO long? I don't know. But "The Road", to totally use a cliche' phrase was hard to put down. I'm done. His style was amazing. It was so good that I can't give a proper review for it.
When I finished. I just wanted to write. I found myself pouring phrases from my subconscious into the roof above my mouth, stored there to yell out.
I want to write so bad; write now. It's as if someone pulled the cork out of my chest to let words spill out like grain from a silo. I haven't written in so long, but a great book can inspire you.
I'm still reading "Gangs of New York", but my interest is waining. It's like the same thing over and over. The "Dead Rabbit Gang fought The Bowery Boys fought the...blah blahs." Maybe I need to push through. Some books are like rigorous mountain hikes. Also still reading "I Am Legend". Some of the stories are amazing and ahead of their time, but others are a tad cheesy.
Today two days after finishing, I wanted to be utterly pretentious and soak in the atmosphere of fine book smell so I went to Barnes and Noble. But it smelled like burning tires. There were kids everywhere yelling in different languages! When did Barnes and Noble become such a kid's clubhouse? I am not opposed to the learning of children, but these kids weren't learning and then the lady on the loudspeaker announced that they'd just finished baking oatmeal raisin cookies in the coffee clatch (or whatever you call it) and then all the children turned to ravenous drooling autobots (forgive the mixed metaphor). "Mom I want cookies!" "Why can't have I cookies?" It's like some twisted cartoon character threw an alarm clock in a den of lions, awakening them from their cookie-less slumber, and I in the middle. I nearly sustained two or three "crotch runnings into". You know the blind direction-less crotch level battering rams of cranium to groin?
The real reason I went to the bookstore however was to buy "No Country For Old Men" and another book called "Twilight" (no not the book about vampires by that Mormon author lady). It's by William Gay and I've heard it's cool. Well, they didn't have it. "No Country..." was a must after reading "The Road" and I couldn't stop thinking about it after it won the Oscar last night. I'm downloading it right now.
I will probably finish it in about 2 days.
Monday, February 25, 2008
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4 comments:
Yes Jeff, yes.
Cormac is amazing.
That sounds like a disaster of a trip to your local bookstore. Better luck next time.
I had a similar experience walking down a street in Brooklyn. The Jr. High had just released for lunch (lucky New York kids) and the street was thronged with 13 year olds. It was horrifying. Really.
Wow, you must be a true writer if reading makes you want to write. I'm content with reading. P.S. I do like your writing.
Reading makes me want pancakes. What does that make me?
I'm reading Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy right now. The book is truly epic. I've already committed myself to read The Road and No Country for Old Men. Thanks for the review. Move to New York.
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