I know, in the quiet part of my brain, that I have been a good steward to such a small and bewildered creature. Still, there are days now when I think it might be better to hope that he found a warm hole to crawl down where he could go to sleep and never again wake to the starved and sightless world that was left to him in the end. [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: misgivings, Scott, stench of death
A few months ago I was slogging through Blood Meridian, and about 3/4 of the way through, Cormac McCarthy writes:
The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it from birth and [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: cormac mccarthy, fiction, personal resonance, truth
I can’t remember anyone my own age who was enthusiastic about books. Reading is by nature a solitary act, but just as natural for me was the impulse to share what I was reading, and my excited overtures tended to fall on indifferent ears. I was a very shy child, and books were one of the few things I got excited enough about to try talking with other kids. It was easy to justify retreating back into my imagination when they failed to reciprocate. he reason I kept trying, though, is because I did have powerful proof that some kids were as into books as I was. [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: all my heroes are dead, hush, nostalgia, reading, Reading Rainbow, stench of death
