Wednesday, October 5, 2016

On Reading

I used to read books all the way through, front to back, regardless of how much I was enjoying them. I don't do that anymore. Although I know how much work goes into writing a book, and I absolutely appreciate each and every author's efforts, I know I will enjoy my life more if I don't force myself to read things I'm not enjoying. I'm not in High School English anymore, and I don't have to write a report if I don't want to. If I like a book, I will rate it on Goodreads, because that is a fun space for me to keep track of books I've read and books I want to read. If I don't like a book, I just put it away and never mention it again, unless in absolutely private company where I can be honest and be assured no one's feelings are hurt. (OR if the author has passed away, in which case I will tell you that I thought The Bourne Identity was a terrible book, and Tony Gilroy was a magician with that screenplay because the movie is one of my absolute favorites.)

I have recently arrived at a First Time Experience where I started reading a book, and was really enjoying it, and then I reached the first, what I'm presuming to be quite major, plot twist. And I know that I can't read the rest of the book. Not because I don't think it's going to be good, because I know it is, but because I know that it will send me into the Ugly Cry. My Ugly Cry is on par with a violent illness, and no matter how temporary, it still means severe discomfort. All the blood in my body rushes up to my head, and, for some reason the front of my face. My nasal passages swell to four times their normal size, and my eyes do the same, rendering me both oxygen-deprived and blind. I savage entire boxes of tissues, leaving unruly, wet, cold Kleenex Mountains on the nightstand. And the resulting headache from all this covers my frontal lobe and crown and throbs on a level that would register on the Richter Scale.

There are people out there who love to cry with their books. "I love a good cry!" Their Good Cry must be something pleasant, like a bunny sneeze. With this book, I don't even want to chance that it might just be a Wee Good Cry, because I know it won't. The blurbs on the front and back of the book did try to warn me. "This unforgettable novel...doesn't just break your heart; it takes your heart and won't give it back." But I said "Pshhht. You don't know me." And I foolishly started to read.

I finished page eighty-five, also the end of Chapter 5, and I said to myself, "Ohhhhh no. I don't think I can proceed here." Because when you know that something is going to make you violently ill, you avoid it, right? Lactose-intolerant people do not dive willingly into the cheesecake (even though it's delicious). Celiac sufferers do not see a batch of chocolate-chip cookies and think, "Oh, absolutely" (even though they are delicious). People with nut allergies do not immerse themselves in a bathtub full of trail mix, because KNOWLEDGE. Knowing what I now know, at Chapter 5, about the characters in this book, I am 100% certain it will send me into the Ugly Cry, and I do not want to be in the Ugly Cry. The last time I made the mistake of reading something guaranteed to put me in Ugly Cry was this:

https://www.amazon.com/Completely-Beside-Ourselves-Faulkner-Award/dp/0399162097/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

And I only got halfway through the book.

For those of you who love a Good Cry! try that one, or this one, where I had to stop at page 85:

https://www.amazon.com/Completely-Beside-Ourselves-Faulkner-Award/dp/0399162097/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=


Proceed at your own risk. And then please let me know how it ends! But only if your summary is not going to make me cry.