The Joy of Reading
*from paper journal*
02/05/06--10:12pm
Note: On my roomie's notebook to type this up...
So while my new (?) monitor is on the fritz and I'm awaiting a refurbished one, I started and finished reading the first book I've read in a year: What's Not to Love?: The Adventures of a Mildly Perverted Young Writer by Jonathan Ames. He's a writer recommended by Moby and has a book signing at the end of the month that Rich and I will be attending.
Interesting that the last book I read was Tori's memoir, and now here's another memoir. I find myself more readily recalling the autobiographies/memoirs I've read than the novels. Is it because I've always found other people's lives more interesting and fascinating than mine? Is it because they (the memoirs) allow me to be a part of someone else's life to escape my own? Is it because that even though most of them are celeb-based, the celebs are still normal human beings beneath it all? Perhaps the appeal is a mixture of all of that.
Nevertheless, in reading again, I'm reminded of the question I always ask myself, being that I majored in English, "How come I don't read more books, fiction or nonfiction?" Am I just lazy? Am I too reliant on the immediate entertaining value of the Internet to allow myself the off-time to be entertained by the literary world?
I have more to write about, as I should. But Grey's Anatomy is finally on...
So, now...
Now I'm reminded of how much I love reading a really good book. It takes you away from the fast-paced life and the need for anything else. It felt good to do nothing but be curled up, reading a funny, quick book, listening to my music on the headphones. I was in another world, and I feel like I know someone better, at least a little. I feel like we're pals now, and I can connect with the writer in a couple weeks. This isn't to say that all I want to read is easygoing fluff, which Ames' memoir is definitely more than that, but just that I want to honestly read more. I feel like I accomplished something; and of course, I embarrassed myself at work today telling my coworker that I read a book, while he tells me he finished three over the week. Eeep. I never read that much in college, let alone now :p
In writing this now, a part of me doesn't know where to start with what to read. It's a similar philosophy to that of music. I don't want to read what everyone else is reading; I want to read something that I'll connect with. And, it's a catch-22 because after I've finished a book, part of the fun is having someone else to talk to about it. In that sense, it's what I miss most about college.
I ask you, dear readers:
What are your reading habits, if any?
If you are an avid reader, what are your preferences?
Do you prefer reading something no one else is and just have the experience on your own?
Or, do you like reading something that you know a few others have read or are reading that you can talk to about it?
Or, do you just say "fuck it" and read whatever you want, and then talk about it to anyone who will listen? If you're part of an online reading group, tell me where to go :)
Soo...
Basically, what I'm trying to say, and I don't know how well I'm doing, is that I want to read more. If I'm not writing, I should be reading. I feel like I've been wasting too much time doing nothing online. No, no, I don't mean reading my dear f'list is wasting time... but often when I've caught up, I'll go and play a stupid game on yahoo or myspace. I should use THAT time to write or read, even if it's just for 20 minutes. I need to remind myself why I fell in love with the English language in the first place. I should've been doing that from the very beginning anyway.
OMG! I don't want to say it, but this could possibly be the best time I've had with a memoir. Bruce Campbell's If Chins Could Kill was a good time, but it wasn't as entertaining from start to finish. Ames is definitely of our times, and reading this now that I'm in the NJ/NYC area is even more hysterical and endearing. Each chapter is a vignette moment of his life, either about his sexual philosophies, his love and/or personal life, and/or about struggling to make it as a writer. It's totally honest; and even though the vignettes seem out there, I don't doubt for a minute that they aren't true.
I think this book should be required reading for a Human Sexuality course. (Which, I actually SHOULD tell my former prof about.) Ames humanizes and humorizes (but doesn't desensitize) some of the more out-there or unusual sexual thoughts or actions a person can have. After you read this, you'll pretty much think anything is normal and acceptable, so long as no one is getting hurt. What I admired most is that Ames seems to respect these things that he sexualizes, especially women. I think he loves all women, and I'm not sure if that comes from the unconditional love he has with his mother or what. Either way, I respect him for it.
I can't wait to read more of his work. And, I know half of you on my f'list are just as curious and interested in sex as me, so you should read it too.
02/05/06--10:12pm
Note: On my roomie's notebook to type this up...
So while my new (?) monitor is on the fritz and I'm awaiting a refurbished one, I started and finished reading the first book I've read in a year: What's Not to Love?: The Adventures of a Mildly Perverted Young Writer by Jonathan Ames. He's a writer recommended by Moby and has a book signing at the end of the month that Rich and I will be attending.
Interesting that the last book I read was Tori's memoir, and now here's another memoir. I find myself more readily recalling the autobiographies/memoirs I've read than the novels. Is it because I've always found other people's lives more interesting and fascinating than mine? Is it because they (the memoirs) allow me to be a part of someone else's life to escape my own? Is it because that even though most of them are celeb-based, the celebs are still normal human beings beneath it all? Perhaps the appeal is a mixture of all of that.
Nevertheless, in reading again, I'm reminded of the question I always ask myself, being that I majored in English, "How come I don't read more books, fiction or nonfiction?" Am I just lazy? Am I too reliant on the immediate entertaining value of the Internet to allow myself the off-time to be entertained by the literary world?
I have more to write about, as I should. But Grey's Anatomy is finally on...
So, now...
Now I'm reminded of how much I love reading a really good book. It takes you away from the fast-paced life and the need for anything else. It felt good to do nothing but be curled up, reading a funny, quick book, listening to my music on the headphones. I was in another world, and I feel like I know someone better, at least a little. I feel like we're pals now, and I can connect with the writer in a couple weeks. This isn't to say that all I want to read is easygoing fluff, which Ames' memoir is definitely more than that, but just that I want to honestly read more. I feel like I accomplished something; and of course, I embarrassed myself at work today telling my coworker that I read a book, while he tells me he finished three over the week. Eeep. I never read that much in college, let alone now :p
In writing this now, a part of me doesn't know where to start with what to read. It's a similar philosophy to that of music. I don't want to read what everyone else is reading; I want to read something that I'll connect with. And, it's a catch-22 because after I've finished a book, part of the fun is having someone else to talk to about it. In that sense, it's what I miss most about college.
I ask you, dear readers:
What are your reading habits, if any?
If you are an avid reader, what are your preferences?
Do you prefer reading something no one else is and just have the experience on your own?
Or, do you like reading something that you know a few others have read or are reading that you can talk to about it?
Or, do you just say "fuck it" and read whatever you want, and then talk about it to anyone who will listen? If you're part of an online reading group, tell me where to go :)
Soo...
Basically, what I'm trying to say, and I don't know how well I'm doing, is that I want to read more. If I'm not writing, I should be reading. I feel like I've been wasting too much time doing nothing online. No, no, I don't mean reading my dear f'list is wasting time... but often when I've caught up, I'll go and play a stupid game on yahoo or myspace. I should use THAT time to write or read, even if it's just for 20 minutes. I need to remind myself why I fell in love with the English language in the first place. I should've been doing that from the very beginning anyway.
OMG! I don't want to say it, but this could possibly be the best time I've had with a memoir. Bruce Campbell's If Chins Could Kill was a good time, but it wasn't as entertaining from start to finish. Ames is definitely of our times, and reading this now that I'm in the NJ/NYC area is even more hysterical and endearing. Each chapter is a vignette moment of his life, either about his sexual philosophies, his love and/or personal life, and/or about struggling to make it as a writer. It's totally honest; and even though the vignettes seem out there, I don't doubt for a minute that they aren't true.
I think this book should be required reading for a Human Sexuality course. (Which, I actually SHOULD tell my former prof about.) Ames humanizes and humorizes (but doesn't desensitize) some of the more out-there or unusual sexual thoughts or actions a person can have. After you read this, you'll pretty much think anything is normal and acceptable, so long as no one is getting hurt. What I admired most is that Ames seems to respect these things that he sexualizes, especially women. I think he loves all women, and I'm not sure if that comes from the unconditional love he has with his mother or what. Either way, I respect him for it.
I can't wait to read more of his work. And, I know half of you on my f'list are just as curious and interested in sex as me, so you should read it too.