Books, Glorious Books

As I've taken down my "Currently" snippet--where I showed what I was reading, watching, playing, etc...--I realize that I've neglected to plug any of my current reads. This has been even worse as I've been updating my Goodreads account and just assuming that everyone knows what I've been reading and whether or not it is worth their time. So, I'm going to take a moment to plug two of my current reads: Drown by Junot Diaz, and The Book of the Dun Cow by Walter Wangerin Jr.

Drown is a collection of short stories by the recent Pulitzer Prize winner of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao--a book I can't recommend highly enough. (If you haven't read it--especially if you are into comics and fantasy and nerdy crap--it's one of the best books ever. Even if you aren't into that stuff, I'm sure you will be blown away.) Now having read Diaz's earlier work, I don't think I would've been so floored by Oscar Wao. Right from Diaz's early beginnings, his story-telling and voice are impeccable. Really. He's the kind of writer that is both inspiring and soul-crushing. Inspiring because he shows what a wordsmith can do with a few choice words. Soul-crushing because he makes a fledgling author want to all but give up his attempt at writing because he will never amount to even a fraction of Diaz's talent. It's not fair. Not fair at all. But that being said, it goes to show how much everyone needs to read this man's books. The amount of emotion he can stir up within a person in such a small amount of space... I really hate this guy and his amazing talent. I continue to be in awe of him, and I suggest that you do yourself a favor and buy one, or both, of his books.

The Book of the Dun Cow is a much different read by comparison, but enjoyable nevertheless. While I might not be envious of Wangerin's writing, I'm still jealous of his emotional manipulation. (I need to work on this in my own novel.) He's got me caring about chickens and mice and dogs more than I ever have before. Many have compared this novel to Watership Down and/or Animal Farm, and while I see why they've done so--this is an allegory involving animals--the themes and overall emotion goes in a different direction than Adam's and Orwell's masterpieces. This might not be a book for everyone, but from what I've read, I'd be doing a disservice to the world of readers if I did not give it a bit of a push in their direction.

Really, there's not much better for a writer to do than read--then pass on the good finds. And if you want to see my lengthy list of recent reads and mini-reviews, hit me up on Goodreads. You can find me by searching for my lengthy email: chris(dot)smith(dot)mailliw(dot)william(at)gmail(dot)com. Just tell me you read my blog and I'll befriend you.

The Detrimental Muse

I'm all for things being so freaking awesome that it sparks whatever little goblin that lives in your creative organs and fires them up, but sometimes, the world proves that too much of a good thing can be bad. Every now and again there is that piece of work that makes me just want to cry because it hurts how perfect it is. Then there are the things that have to go in, fiddle with your inner gears, and change your outlook for the rest of your life.

Lois Lowry's The Giver sprouted my eternal devotion to books.
Jeunet and Caro's The City of Lost Children made me want to be a director.
Failure's "Fantastic Planet" plucked a heartstring that is still twanging.
Alan Moore's The Watchmen showed me what comics could be, thus making me want to create my own.
My brother's art threw me into a lifetime of doodles.
And now there is Junot Diaz's The Breif Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

I don't think I've ever read something this perfect. It's so good that it makes a wannabe writer such as myself want to just say "Screw it. If there are people like this out there, why does the world need me?" Luckily, for every life-changing book that hits the shelves, film that flickers in theatres, album to download, there are about a thousand more that out and out blow. I hate the moments like this, when I'm so inspired by the work of another's hands that I loose the tangibility of my dreams...