I really want to be writing today. But this is going to be quick, because my dog reeks SO BAD I can smell his fetid ass from across the room. I have no choice but to cut my writing time short, to take care of his repulsiveness. I’m resorting to mouth-breathing, for the present.
I want to tell you about two books I’ve read recently that you might like. The first is Lalita Tademy’s Cane River. It was an Oprah book many moons ago, and it’s one that was repeatedly recommended to me, which is the reason I finally got to it (it was published like ten years ago or something).
Anyway, meh. It’s okay, I guess. The research is excellent, the writing fine, but the subject matter just isn’t my cup of tea. If you have a particular interest in either slave narratives or genealogy, you’d probably really enjoy it, but I found the characters very stock and predictable. So, whatever.
Then I read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and OH MY GOD, kill me.
This book will rip your heart from your chest, sucker punch it, stomp it on the ground, resuscitate it, and then repeat maybe 100 more times. It is technically categorized as “YA,” but from what I can tell, the only thing “YA” about it is the age of the two main characters. (Furthermore, I have a kind of ethical issue with this label. What does it even mean? While I understand that categorizing must be necessary for marketing purposes, it seems a bit demeaning. Right?) The Fault in Our Stars is a love story, and a cancer story, and I really can’t tell you anything else about it or I’ll ruin it for you and that would be morally reprehensible. I will share this texting exchange between myself and my friend Wendy, who loaned it to me, for the purposes of convincing you of its absolute awesomeness.
Me: Ok, Wendy. I cannot be held responsible for any abuse I do to your book.
Me: Because I tried valiantly to hold myself off w postit notes; and now I’m swimming in LITERARY DESPAIR AND AM DYING. Every sentence and I’m DYING. Don’t give me books like this again. I’m a wreck. Sorry for the defacing. But you must agree, there was no alternative.
Me: Not that I pulled it apart. I just had to write all over the margins in pen
Me: IN PEN. Ran out of postits and couldn’t contain myself.
Me: Sorry girl. Nothing that could be done
Me: I’m a wreck.
Me: Love you [insert adorable and adoring emoticons]
Me: Sleep lovely.
Me: [insert additional blushing happy face emoticons]
(An aside: I just noticed that this is less of an “exchange” and more of a “monologue.” I promise that I do have actual friends, and that Wendy does, indeed, exist, as a physical being. For real.)
So there you go. Read it right away.
To close, I must direct your attention now to this little gem, which I’ve watched on YouTube maybe fifty times in the last two days. THEY PRONOUNCE “NICHE” CORRECTLY. Kill me now, I can die happy.