flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

July 24, 2009

What is it with these depressing books?!

First, our principal gives us the "Last Lecture", then my mother in law gives me "A Thousand Splendid Suns". I had them on my shelf for the summer reading marathon. I finished them both in the last 24 hours.

I now feel like kicking somebody to make them feel good, too.

Sheesh.

I guess I should go get "Sarah's Key" that my mom gave me. So I can go into a depressive funk that will last for weeks.

Why do people so love books that make them feel like crap? I mean, I like to read, quite a bit actually, but I usually choose material that makes me laugh or love or be angry. Not sad. I really dislike feeling sad.

I can appreciate these books as being well written and well told stories. But I simply do not like the wrung-out feeling I have after I've finished. It's not even angst. It's downright depressing. And when it's fiction, I don't even feel enlightened. I just feel...

manipulated! That's it! I feel like the author has got me to read this by making me feel like there has to be SOME damn light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is the oncoming train. At least the train would end the trauma.

So, I guess I'll keep reading the classics because it's what you have to do to be able to have conversations with people. But at least I understand now why I completely hate them, and I'll go read my fanfic and pulp fic and other happy sappy crap completely guilt free.

(*)>

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