The Case for Reading Bad Books

Go check out the following article:

The Case for Reading Bad Books by @rebeccaschinsky


This article was a good one that articulates an argument for finishing “bad” books even if you are normally a person who tends to not finish them.  I have only not finished maybe 10 books, ever.  If I pick something up and start to read it then I’ve already bought into it.

With the activity of my imagination I have to finish bad books because then I can let them go.  I can let the characters slip away into the humiliated dark shadows of regret.  I can let the setting fade away into a cliche fog.  If I don’t finish a book then it will keep cropping up like an unwanted Facebook status update from that whiny friend who complains every day.  If I don’t finish a book then I wonder about what happens next in the storyline.  Those poor characters… even the ones I didn’t like… did the author ever get their shit together and give them a real chance at an interesting story/developed plot/happy ending?  Ugh!

No it is better by far for me to plow through a bad book while railing against the injustice of books like these getting published while talented authors with more put together stories/more interesting characters/a good conflict all languish in the realm of unpublished and unfinished imaginationland.   I will finish a bad book in one sitting (if I can stomach it) and then reward myself with a rereading of one of my favorite books as a salve to my imagination.  It’s like here imagination… this is how the book should have gone down.  I’m sorry I put us through that… here’s some deliciously distracting Terry Pratchett as a pallet cleanser.

On the Road to Happily Ever After

Boyfriend just got off work.  With an enveloping hug, I remember that the “happily ever after” is worth it.  As Charles DeLint says, “you have to earn your happily ever after.”  I’m certainly going through the woods and the adventures and struggles part of the plot lately and have been all my life, but I thought the ending/beginning of the new chapter was in sight.  It appears I have been gravely mistaken and the author of my life has written that I have more struggle ahead. Cliché as it is, when it rains, it pours.  In my case the economy has been shatting upon my sunshine for months.  All is dark.  (These last two sentences are actual direct quotes I have used in conversation in the last few days. LoL Dramatic much?)

Despite everything, I think things will work out for the best.  Boyfriend and me are seriously considering moving to the capital.  It feels strangely right.  I am surprised considering that I’ve always hated the capital and never once entertained, seriously, the idea of living there or even staying for any length of time.  Now, out of the blue it occurs to me that not only is there much more opportunity there, but we both have many resources at our disposal in this city.  It will be new for both of us but inside I feel a sense of calm when I think of pursuing this option.  This calm feeling is not present when considering any other cities.  My biggest concern about the move in January is that Boyfriend will not want to go… Thinking this way treads dark paths and I want to focus on the light.  I can see the “happily ever after” in the distance.  It is waiting, watching us, and will come when we have earned it.

With more joy then I had expected I eagerly dive back into the loving embrace of the Discworld.

Reality is Invading My Escapism

Currently I’m between the pages of Witches Abroad Terry Pratchett and Distracted by Maggie Jackson

Last night I read a bit more of Witches Abroad.  It is quite comical, wonderfully entertaining, and definitely escapism of the best possible kind.  I quite enjoy his witches’ books from the Discworld.

Today, while I was between bouts of reading:

Continued “The Job Search” today.  I attempted to apply to six positions, and actually applied to two.  I went to four locations to inquire as to the availability of work and was promptly dismissed from two, politely put off at one, and cautiously encouraged to apply at the last.  At the last location in addition to the actual application and the promise of the person putting in “two good words” for me, a potential alternative job offer was made.  The job: dressing up in a dorky costume and holding a sign to get the attention of passing cars so that they would enter and possibly rent from our apartment complex.  The person thoughtfully thought of another resident and myself as candidates silly/desperate enough to be interested in such a position.  I am shamed to say that I didn’t say yes because my pride wouldn’t let me.  I am at such a low point that this is only the second actual job offer I have received since graduating from University in May with a Bachelor of Arts in English.

I got a check in the mail today.  It was for $2.67.  It was compensation for the gas involved in being summoned but not picked for jury duty.  Sadly, it is the most money I have made in months.  I burst into tears upon opening the check because I am feeling overwhelmed, terrified, and hopeless. Also, I realized I forgot to get my allergy shot today.  It was supposed to be the second shot.

On the verge of a panic attack because the torrent of reality is crashing and drowning my streaming consciousness, I escape into Peggle.  Peggle is a game for either your computer or your Xbox360 sort of like Plinco (from The Price is Right) but with a super bouncy ball and unicorns and the “Ode to Joy”.  It’s an AMAZING game!  I played the adventure campaign on Xbox with a friend.  We were one level from completion when the time came to pick up Boyfriend from work. Reality is invading my escapism.

My “happily ever after” seems far off today.