Arrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggg….Something’s gone wrong with me…even more so than usual. I cannot account for a weather change in my reading. Ever since I was a child, I’ve read everything that was printed. Not now.
I’d read and reread my childhood favorites repeatedly even when there was nothing new to read. Remember the cereal boxes with the cut out’s and games? I could hardly wait til the cereal was gone and the box was mine. Slide tab B into slot B. Now the tabs don’t fit into the slots any more.
I’ve never been much of a prince, princess, and magical kingdom kind of reader tho I’ve loved many of the Anne McCaffrey’s stories. I find that I still like space opera, and a good mystery. But a good mystery doesn’t mean it has to be all blood and gore or all negativity. It can mean an excellent play between characters or a unique beauty in the setting that makes the story more.
I’ve always loved Kellerman, but right now I cannot read him. All the darkness and fear frightens me to death. Something in this, I take to heart. Box’s writing is superior, and his characterizations are excellent. But his books have more blood and gore dripping off the pages than any other mysteries. I just cannot stand them. Something inside me is viscerally torn apart by these books, and I am now making a new pile to go to the cancer society.
I noticed my tolerance for negativity, darkness, meanness, plus blood and gore waning before surgery. I gave all the Box volumes to the cancer society early on. I’d hate to give the Kellerman’s to them too. I like the doctor as well as his foil, the gay cop. They are well written mysteries. Something in me has changed. I cannot stand the blackness of these old favorite books any longer.
I confess this was a shock. What do I do with myself when I can’t find anything left to read? What are you reading?
Life is Really in the Footnotes: