Now I am reading science fiction.
Science fucking fiction.
The last book I read was an espionage style book. "Kill Shot" by Vince Flynn. I hadn't read espionage in 107 years. But I loved it. Already have two more Vince Flynn books in my possession.
I haven't read science fiction in 207 years. Used to read it a lot. Burned out on it.
Randomly came across this book called "Red Mars". The cover caught my attention because on it is high praise from Arthur C. Clarke.
You gotta have your references, baby - people whose opinion you trust. I read a lot, and because of that I can't always make the right decision about what to read. I am only human.
But I can't stand the feeling of wasting my time as I read. It happens rarely because I know what I like, I understand what I need. But every once in a while I find myself reading a book that sucks. When I get to the breaking point, I stop. But it drives me crazy. I can't stand not finishing a book. It seems amoral to me; unnatural.
But if it sucks, it sucks. And I don't have time to waste. There are 33,000 more books I need to read before I die.
Anyway, sci-fi with a glowing recommendation from Arthur C. Clarke? It don't get no better than that.
The first three words in his description are: "A staggering book". That's all I needed.
And I am digging it. AND there is a sequel, of course. Called "Green Mars". So I'm gonna have to read that too.
And so it goes. So it goes.
I thought about how much I enjoyed "Kill Shot" and how much I am enjoying "Red Mars" and realized it all comes down to intelligence. Why the hell am I reading espionage and science fiction after all these years?
Both books are intelligently written. They keep me interested and they challenge my atrophying brain a bit.
Allow me to illustrate. One of the old bags I work with decided she and I have the same exact taste in books. She figured this out because she talks a lot. In fact she never shuts the fuck up. So I yes her to death. And she thinks we are simpatico. She forced one of her books on me and I read it.
Goddamn thing sucked. It was about a French detective. It was juvenile. I forced myself to read it but it was painful. I figured I would have to talk to her about it so I might as well know what the hell it was about.
Then she gave me five or six more just like it plus some stupid fucking movie. I gotta learn to say no.
I will not read any of those books. I will not watch the movie. In fact I am considering burning them and giving her the ashes.
Anyway, if the books were intelligently written I would have enjoyed them and I could have thanked her.
Instead I have to kill her.
Anyway, I guess the lesson here is that I shouldn't shut down any specific genres. I am open to being entertained. As long as the writing is intelligent.
Good thing my mind is still elastic.