For the longest time I use to tell people that my favorite book was Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I never actually finished the book. I liked the first couple of chapters and the throbbing sexual tension between two innocent kids. But after awhile the book began to trail off and I couldn’t find anything to hook me back into it. I felt like I was waiting dearly and patiently through the main character’s naive life hoping to see Estella again, to watch her break down into a lesser and more vulnerable character. I would wisp through pages with anticipation, but by the point where I gave up every night and put the book down, I left feeling frustrated when it wouldn’t bring Estella back to life. My great expectations had fallen short.
I never read another book, except for English class, until I read A Walk To Remember. I was fully infused with the book as I cradled the pages in my fingers for 11 hours until 9am in the morning. I was imprisoned by the book, unable to escape it’s mesmerising bond between it’s characters. I wanted to see how they grew, how they changed, feel their emotional epiphanies. Every time I reached the end of a chapter, I wanted more plot, more words. The book made me hungry. When it was 9am and I finally closed it, finished, I felt. . . well hopefully we all know what a good orgasm feels like.
I’ve tried to read the classics but I only felt like I was lying to myself. I felt that putting myself through the torture of Elizabethean writing would make me a better person and influence my writing for the better. I can’t say it did, or didn’t, because I don’t know if I could gauge that. However, forcing myself to commit to a book was a painful experience. Reading an awful bestseller is like being in a relationship with someone you don’t like but your friends say is good for you. You just can’t wait until it’s over.
Books shouldn’t be like that. By the time you reach that conclusive last sentence, you should feel the pain of letting go of something you don’t want to see fade out and disappear. Stories are supposed to make you happy, at least for as long as it could be in your life.
There are some books that just need to be read, but i you don't like them , that is fine. The point of reading is learning. I think writers need to read, it builds a better vocabulary, it gives inspiration, it is important to know what is out there. But, reading classics won't automatically make you a better writer. It doesn't work like that. You need to understand the craft of words, without it reading everything won't help you.
ReplyDeleteThat's a good point.
ReplyDelete