Books

I just recently finish a really great book, The Devil in White City. It was about the World's Fair, The Columbian exhibition of 1893. It is non-fiction and fun. I really loved it. But like when all good things start to come to an end, I get so bummed. When I was finishing the last HP I found myself wanting to "save" the last few chapters, because when it was done, I couldn't just go and check out book 7. Those feelings popped up in this last book too. So when I finish I was fearful of starting a new book and it being no good. Sometimes I luck out a read 4 enjoyable books in a row, but then there are times like today.
I decided to read Running with Scissors. I remember this book being popular a while ago (a year or two) and the book was compared to two authors I enjoy, Dave Eggers and David Sedaris, so I am thinking. . .this book will be at least fine. Not fine.
*Disclaimer* I am only half way finished.
Maybe I am not hip enough to appreciate a young gay boy who gets sexually messed by a man more that twice his age, mistaking it for love. It seems so clear in the book that this older man is selfish and perverse. I am reading this boys memories and my heart is sinking lower and lower. And this is the girl who rents Law and Order: SVU on netflix. Of course I will finish it, it is a quick read, but when it is done I will be bummed out for this kid for a few days, like I know him or something. And then the search continues for a redemptive book that will restore my love for reading all over again. Are looking for books like looking for love?

Get it all out.

So, I am starting a real blog. I am not going to make it a big joke to pretend that I don't care or to dodge the chance that someone might think I am a bad writer. You know what I am talking about, I think we all do it. If we think we aren't good at something we will completely butcher it to avoid critisim because it was a big joke anyway, right. . .you know. I have so many friends that are good writers or have convinced me they are good writers and I can't go around living in fear of writing a sentence in front of them, they would think that was ridiculous. Because it is ridiculous. So that is that.
I have no idea what this blog will consist of mostly because of the other insecurity that I have nothing interesting to say. Like my life is sad and boring or something. I know it isn't, but when I start to write about it, that fear grips its pimplely hand around my milky smooth neck and chokes me to smithereens. See, already. . .the adjectives I have chosen to use. I think are hilarious, but I run the risk of something thinking that I think that I am brilliant. See what I mean. This should be an adventure.