i used to read one book at a time. i used to read that book in a very regimented manner, like fifteen or twenty five pages a day, depending on how simple or dense the writing. i used to set a schedule and track my progress making it so i knew when i should be done with the book and if i completed the book as expected. sometimes i finished on time, and other times, i never finished at all.
the never finishing at all business bothered me. like a lot. i found that a slow moving or not right for this moment book could stall my reading, all my reading. i knew changing the book might clear the block but consequences loomed. this is the ocd side of me. while this quirk sometimes debilitated me, other times, lots of times, my quirk helped me over many of life's saw horses. i needed this to be one of those times.
so, i made a small tweak to my reading routine (somewhere along this journey, i stumbled upon the bionic power of small properly-placed tweaks). instead of focusing on one book, i now read four - six books at a time. and instead of reading in a genre rotation like i once did (e.g. fiction, history, literature, non-fiction, psychology, fluff, repeat), i read all genres at once. and instead of reading for a set amount of pages per day, i read for a set amount of time, thirty minutes. when the reading window comes up, i set the timer, pick one of the books from the currently being read stack, open to the bookmarked page and collapse into another person's world and experience.
now when i stall, i stall for bigger, more meaty causes, the sort of things one should set their book down for. not just because the lead character in the book blows or the author and i aren't jiving at the minute. this i can live with.
Stranger in a Strange Land
Robert A. Heinlein
Wherever You Go There You Are
Stumbling on Happiness
Endurance: Shackletons' Incredible Voyage
|READ BEFORE||BOOKS FROM : 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013|
All the King's Men
Robert Penn Warren
we were all taught in high school english that there are good writers and good storytellers. a defining quality is that a storyteller had to rely on their narrative to be effective and a writer could get by on their use of language alone. never before have i seen a better example of this tenet than with All the King's Men. virtually every facet of the story itself is unremarkable, considerably cliche even. but the manner in which Warren describes these people and events is truly breathtaking. truly.
what compelled me to finally read this was the recently released movie based on the work. i've long been critical of film adaptations of exceptional novels. it's kind of like re-making the mona lisa using legos. it's fine as a wintry weekend time-spoiler but not exactly something you should subject others to. the flaw in this particular treatment is amplified by the fact that this art works because of how it is presented. it doesn't need someone to come in and fix it or re-do it because i can say with one thousand percent certainty, and this without having seen the film, there is no way they are going to improve upon what is already there. although, if your goal in life is to take great things and make them mediocre, plug away hollywood. plug away.
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