For years, literally, I've been looking for books to read. After a childhood spent enthralled with the written word, I've hungered to feel that surge of excitement in new stories and new authors. I even joined a book club for about a year while we lived in Austin. During that club, I discovered that The Fountainhead is one of my favorite books. But, most of the other titles the group read (and even the one or two titles I selected) left me cold.
When I've spent time in bookstores, I've wandered hopefully over to the New Fiction selections sitting all puffed up and pretty on the display tables right in front of the store; hell, I've trolled the Biography sections, the compilations of essays, the Classics... Sections like Film and Self Help or Parenting/Pregnancy don't count; I've wanted an attachment to a story, characters, and/or writer. And, sigh, whenever I've hopefully picked up a book to flip through its contents, awaiting that siren seduction, I've ultimately put it back down - or worse, read it and nearly immediately forgotten it. Yawn.
Well, just in the last several weeks, I'm experiencing an unexpected and happy resurgence of Fun Book Reading! And, I'm now acquainted with the term for a type of writing I like reading (and writing myself): creative nonfiction. Tonight, in the laundry room, where our building's occupants leave a library of old magazines and paperbacks, I came across a 10-year-old book by Gail Sheehy about Life Passages. Very interesting. I should be going to bed, but I keep reading a little more. And, now I'm writing about reading it, to boot! I've also been reading essays by Susan Orlean, and I want to check out whether I like works by Virginia Wolffe (sp?)... I find her life interesting, what I know of it.
Very cool. It's so fun to be excited about reading again.
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