You're a pretty serious reader

So, while waiting for hip hop (which sort of didn't happen), the following conversation occurred.

I'm reading The Voyage Out when one of the personal trainers approaches me (who has not previously been featured in this series; totally new guy):

"Is that a new book from last week?"

Momentary out-of-body experience where I wonder how often he has noted my reading habits/existence, given that I really do try to fly under the radar.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you finish the one from last week?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wow; you are a pretty serious reader. You have this routine going."

I'm not sure where the "sirs" came from. I think it must have been the day that I was having.

Anyway, this one struck me as particularly funny, because just the other day (at the gym!) I was having a conversation with someone else who was questioning whether I actually finished the books I read, since every time he sees me I'm reading a new book (he doesn't see me that often).

With Cat-like Tread

Yay! Okay, this is a fairly random milestone to celebrate, but still, I'm excited. I have now read 365 books from the list. This means that were I able to read a book a day, I would now have read a year's worth of books. However, I'm nowhere near that quick at reading. I'm lucky to do a book every 3.5 days. Ah, well.

To celebrate, I had a semi-spontaneous dance party to the titular song (and if you can understand why I picked said song, then you sort of understand part of my brain).

More than you wanted to know

In addition to reading fiction, on occasion I write fiction (now, we're not going to comment on the quality of said fiction. . .). Sometimes, in addition to reading other people's fiction, I re-read my own fiction; this can be a very humbling process.

Generally, my leading ladies are not very similar to me. At least, I hope not; most have serious mental health issues. Serious ones.

That said, I was re-reading one I started about four years ago, and based on one particular scene I can remember exactly what I was going through when I wrote it. The character is actually not really like me, which is part of why the scene stands out (it wasn't about the character, it was completely about me). It's fascinating to see that now.

It's not that I haven't learned and grown an incredible amount in the past four years, but in some ways I'm still in that place. Again, re-reading your own work can be very humbling.

Believe it or not

This isn't my life. Similar, perhaps, but sort of the opposite.

Wait for it. . .

Today I read an article about a book by AJ Jacobs, the guy who read the Encyclopedia Britannica, tried to follow all the rules in the Bible, and most recently did a health kick. Apparently, this is actually a genre called Shtick Lit. Who knew?

According to said article, "Ben Yagoda defines 'shtick lit' as '[b]ooks perpetrated by people who undertook an unusual project with the express purpose of writing about it.'" Think Walden, but generally nowhere near that good/worthy of existing. The author of the article's main gripe with these kinds of books is that they tend to follow a very set formula, tend to be filled with cliches, and tend to not really go to the level of extreme that would justify having a book about them.

All of this sort of hit close to home, clearly. I mean, this is definitely a shtick blog (but really, aren't most?). It doesn't exactly 100% qualify, in that the project came long before the blog, though. The blog is just a place to chronicle this undertaking, not the reason for the undertaking by any means. Still, I definitely see this project as slightly ridiculous. It isn't exactly a stunt, but I do get stunt mileage out of it. I definitely roll it out when I need to provide information about myself but I don't want to actually share anything personal.

However, since I have yet to actually get a book deal or anything, I think that does show a certain dedication to autodidactism that is missing from many of these.

I'd end this with my most recent awkward gym moment involving a guy and a bagel, but it had nothing to do with reading/the list project, so I suppose it doesn't really fit.

I am what you want me to be/And I'm your worst fear, you'll find it in me

So, I read this book called How Late It Was, How Late It Was. Well, how late was it?, you may ask. It was so late that. . .

No, seriously, I did not like this one, which given my feelings about stream-of-consciousness and Kafka is not surprising. Everything I read - which yes was not much - about this novel kept comparing him to Kafka, which is sort of like comparing something to hitting your thumb with a hammer, you must ask yourself: is this a good thing? And you really must answer yourself: no, my darling, no it is not.

The nice thing about keeping a very lazy blog about what you are reading rather than reading for an English class is that you can write about whatever you feel like, you don't have to discuss the themes/symbolism/motifs/significance/etc. of a novel.

So let's discuss the piece of the novel that stood out to me (aside from the pain, I mean): suddenly going blind. I'm not kidding, this is one of my worst fears. I think it comes from my tendency to faint, and how that moment when everything goes black is just terrifying. No matter what you do, you can't see, and no matter how you tell yourself that you'll be able to see soon and to not panic, you feel that panic welling up. So scary.

That's what this book made me think about, when I wasn't thinking about hammering my thumbs. Yes, it was a fun time!

Could We Start Again, Please?

I thought it would be topical to read The Last Temptation of Christ this week (I also watched Jesus Christ Superstar and The Bearenstein Bears Easter Surprise, and It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown because, yes, I do know how to observe holidays, and yes, I am five years old).

Back on topic. I kind of seriously loved this one. Certainly a controversial read, and I was not at all surprised to learn that it is often a banned book. That said, I agree with the interpretation that it actually is fairly orthodox. Yes, it is a retelling of the story of Christ's life, but in such a way that it actually affirms the traditional story in a very powerful way.

I'm trying to figure out exactly why I liked it as much as I did. Some was language, but not as much as it usually is a factor. I think some is likely just the sheer power of the story, and the way that such a re-envisioning can bring meaning into such sharp relief.

That's the satellite, right?

I think Sputnik Sweetheart is one that you need to read. Both in that, you should read it, and in that it's hard to explain it if someone hasn't read it. For a bit, 2012 was a very weak year in terms of ones I actually liked, but this one I loved.

Here's a favorite quote to give you a sense:

So that's how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us - that's snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely changed people with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.

I also read The Beautiful Room is Empty. What a title! I liked the first bit, but then it just felt really aimless/listless/pointless. I'm not always super into these coming-of-age novels. Some people are boring, and their coming of age isn't particularly interesting.

Also, look what I found! I look a bit crabby, but I can live with that. I was very cold, as I recall. Not a big Bell Jar fan, but ah, well.