Feb. 10th, 2016

shadowkat: (warrior emma)
I haven't really read any books worth commenting on at the moment. And have a lot in my reading queue or that I appear to be reading at the same time. So will wait a bit to do the meme.

I've been pondering the whole reading and writing thing today. Years ago, a friend of mine wrote a rather good post on the art of writing carefully...at the time I thought, as I do know, how there is art to reading carefully as well. And in this day and age...that art seems to be often be lost. We're reading so many things, and if you are like me, often multiple things at the same time...which lends itself to rapid skimming or scrolling, or blurring the lines between works. I know there are at least two posts on my friends list that I commented on this past week that I did not read carefully, and for that, you all have my heartfelt apologies.

The problem with not reading things carefully, not taking the time to fully digest the text, is you don't pay attention to what the writer isn't saying. The subtext, the content in between the lines or that has been implied, often subtly. Often a writer, a good writer, will say a great deal with very little. But if your eyes quickly skip over the words...you miss it.

There's a lot I want to say here, but I can't quite find the words to say it. (Deleted this post and rewrote it twice.) Does that happen to you?

Today, an old friend reminded me of an essay I wrote and long forgotten. It was not one that I was particularly proud of or had thought much of, one way or the other. At the time I'd written it -- I was writing meta or Buffy essays like a madwoman. Pumping out five a week. One guy, a moderator of one of the posting boards that I was posting to at the time, told me that I was certainly prolific and had begun to give him a complex. (Grins evilly). I wrote, not for the applause...okay maybe a little, but for the interaction. And ..well, there was a television series I was obsessed with that's metaphors somehow gave voice to those demons or at the very least helped explicate them. I needed to discuss it with like-minded people -- and I had to hunt for them.

Anyhow..I went back out of curiosity to read the essay, just the first part, which I randomly landed on. And...it hit me, why I loved that series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the series with the silly name - and why the series worked for me in a way many others haven't.

It's an odd, rambling essay, that meanders here and there and everywhere, which may explain why the academics didn't quite know what to do with me. Academics tend to like it when you write in a straight clear narrative line and rigidly follow established rules and guidelines. Painting or rather writing outside of the lines or box is strongly discouraged. I can handle that sort of thing at a public agency, but academia is supposed to be about encouraging people to learn and think outside of the box. So, let's just say...there's a reason I was discouraged from pursuing a career in academia.

If at all curious about it -- you can find it here, warning it is long. I entitled it, Restless:Leaving Childhood Behind, Part I - Willow's Dream.

It's odd what resonates with people. I'll never understand it. Yet, there were bits of that essay that resonated with me ...even if I find it ponderous in places. We are our own worst critics after all.

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