Work on the bookshelves.
I’ve packed up six boxes of books. I threw a few books in the trash. I don’t feel guilty; they really sucked. I do retain a couple books that suck, out of guilt. I hope one day to throw them in the garbage, too. I think I will look at them for several more years in order to wrap my mind around the idea.
Three books that don’t suck:
This. It was so much fun. I think what recommends the stories are immoderate but interesting behavior, adventure, and a strong sense of group identity/expectation/established procedure. It’s all told in direct prose which is shot through with glimmering strands of a pre-Christian supernatural influence. I love that sort of thing, it’s one of my favorite things, actually.
Images in this book form my most frequently occupied mental world. When I read it, I recognized the surroundings instantly. That’s one of the best experiences to have with a story. I think anyone who loves to read has a world they feel that way about, so, anyway, this is mine, and I hang out here most of the time.
What is it like? Lush. Forested. Somewhere, the sea. A looming hill, which I am both standing on and approaching. Things don’t move in predictable ways. Some aren’t who they say they are. There exist filth, magic, harm without malevolence, and, at times, strange consequences. The rules aren’t clear. It’s twilight, dark, even the day is dim. Nothing is without a voice.
I wonder if this appeals, or no? Here’s the thing: you may think this is not your world, too, but are you sure?
Runner up for world. A couple elements of this have fused with the other. The stories are kind of bonkers. They come at you fast. If your friend was telling you these stories, you’d be like, Hey, are you drunk? And your friend would be like, Very.
Okay, that’s all for now. I’ll be back with more.